All That Matters
by Myra109
Summary: Based off of a prompt by Emolichic1. Aimee Brown has gone against everything her family stood for by falling in love with Sodapop Curtis. Can their love survive the challenges that this life throws at them or will they crash and burn? Warnings before chapters, Soda/OC, Cherry/Dally
1. As a Favor

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders, but I would gladly buy him if SE Hinton offers to sell!**

* * *

Rain soaked her from head to toe and she smiled into his shoulder. His blonde hair tickled her nose and his warm breath caused a tingling sensation to spread through her neck. For a moment, just a moment, it didn't matter how much her parents hated her or what they said to her. It didn't matter how much her sister yelled at her or how she turned her back on her because of this boy and his friends. All that mattered was her and this unique boy holding her while a storm raged on around them.

All that mattered was her and Sodapop Curtis.

* * *

"Marcia! You're going to miss the bus!" Brad Brown shouted up to his daughter, who bustled about her bedroom gathering her school supplies.

"I'm coming, Daddy! Aimee! Have you seen my biology textbook?"

"The little bitch probably stole it just to get a rise out of us," Brad murmured to his dark haired wife, who nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, upstairs, a dark haired girl with pale skin entered her sister's room.

"Sorry, Marcia, I haven't seen it. Have you checked under your bed?" Aimee Brown answered. Her twin sister, Marcia, stopped and laughed before reaching under her queen sized bed and withdrew a thick, blue book decorated with dolphins and sea creatures. Biology was written across the top in bright orange. "How'd you know, Aimee?"

"You always leave your books under the bed, Marcy!" Aimee laughed. "Now, let's go, we're going to be late."

Aimee rushed downstairs, smiling at her parents only to receive a scowl in return. Ah, she was used to it.

Aimee rushed outside to get on the bus that had pulled up to the driveway, Marcia hot on her heels.

Aimee smiled as she climbed the metal steps. "Thank you for waiting, Mr. Margo."

"You're welcome, Aimee," the man grinned. Mr. Margo was an old man with white hair atop his head and on his upper lip with a large midsection, but a good heart all the same. "I figured that your sister lost something again."

Marcia rolled her eyes and glared at the middle class bus driver. She hated anyone that was not rich, or a 'Soc' as people now called them. Aimee honestly found it rather silly. Why call them Socs instead of rich kids? Or why call Greasers Greasers instead of ordinary kids? Honestly, Aimee didn't care if she was rich or if those kids were poor or if this bus driver was middle class? What made them so different other than money?

Aimee seated herself in the seat behind the bus driver while her twin traveled further back on the bus to sit with the other Socs. The dark haired girl stared out the window at the passing scenery. They were currently passing by a DX gasoline station, and Aimee was so excited to escape this prison people called high school afterward and get a Pepsi.

Little did she know that that visit to the DX would change her life forever.

* * *

Aimee muddled through the day until finally, she was able to escape the penitentiary that people called school and treat herself to a soda at the DX.

Typically, when she walked in, she'd see a boy with a rather large nose and hair combed into complicated swirls, but today was different. Instead of Steve Randall behind the counter, she met eyes with a different teenager, about her age. He was beautiful with long blonde hair that was almost gold and laughing, lively brown orbs.

"What can I do for you, miss?" The boy questioned, politely.

"One Pepsi please." As if knowing what she wanted the moment she walked in, he turned around and immediately held a Pepsi in his hand. "Thank you... um..." She squinted at his name tag," Sodapop? What an original name."

"Yeah and it's my real one too. Even says so on my birthday certificate. What's your name?"

"Aimee, spelled A-I-M-E-E."

He grinned a smile with teeth so white they glittered in the sun light that filtered through the windows. "Do you always spell out your name when you introduce yourself?"

"Yes. People always misspell it, so the moment we meet I establish the fact that if you misspell my name, you probably weren't paying attention when we met."

The boy laughed. "I like your argument."

"So, if you don't mind me asking, where's Steve today? I've never seen you here before."

"Well, Steve is sick, so I offered to work his shift today. I typically leave to pick up my brother from school, but it wasn't that hard to call my friend, Two Bit, to drop him off at home."

"Oh, where does your brother go to school?" Aimee asked.

"He goes to Will Rogers High School right down the street. He could walk here, but what with all of the Socs around, we don't want to risk him getting jumped."

"Oh, I go there as well. I guess you can say I'm a Soc, but honestly I think this whole Soc vs. Greaser thing is rather dumb. What makes us any different other than green paper?"

Sodapop chuckled. "Agreed. I thought we settled this two years ago with that rumble!"

"I know. I was out of town during that, but it wasn't long before the story reached me."

"Yeah. Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but do I know you from somewhere?"

"Perhaps you know my twin sister, Marcia."

"Yes! She used to come around with Cherry all the time, but I haven't seen her in a while."

"Yeah, Cherry hasn't talked to Marcia since Marcia pranked this poor kid at school one day."

Soda looked confused. "What'd they do?"

"They poured a bucket of hair grease on this poor blonde kid, saying he's a Greaser and that he needs more hair grease, or something like that. He ran to the bathroom and I hung a bag with clothes on his locker, but that didn't help his humiliation. He ditched school for the rest of the day."

"Huh," Soda looked perplexed and maybe even a little worried," I'm suprised my brother didn't tell me about that."

"What's your brother's name?"

"Ponyboy Curtis, why?"

Aimee blushed a deep red. If she'd known, she wouldn't have brought it up. "Um... yeah... well, he's the one that Marcia pranked. If it had been anyone else, Cherry would have forgiven her eventually, but with Ponyboy, it was personal."

"Damn that boy!" Aimee jumped at Soda's sudden outburst. "Sorry, but it's not like Ponyboy to keep secrets from me."

"It's alright, I understand. If it were my sibling, it would be angry too."

The blonde quietly seethed for another moment or two before finally sighing and saying with a sheepish grin, "Aimee, would you like to go out with me sometime? Just as a thank you for helping my brother after the prank."

Aimee didn't know what to say.

* * *

 _Will Aimee accept? Stay tuned for the next chapter to find out!_


	2. Just to Say Thank You

_sorry, it took longer than expected to get this chapter posted, but here it is. Read and Review!_

 _Warnings: language, mentions of bullying, hints of (and maybe someven minor) verbal abuse_

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing! Sorry to disappoint you, but it's true.**

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It was seven PM and Sodapop Curtis tapped his foot on the porch outside of the Brown household as he rang the doorbell.

A man answered the door and if possible, he only made Soda more nervous. Tall and muscular, the guy looked like a pro wrestler in a nice suit. He had a buzz cut and his dark glinting eyes were narrowed at the boy holding a flower standing on his doorstep.

"Um... hello," Soda choked out. "Is, um, Aimee Brown home?"

 _Great, Soda,_ he chided himself, _way to sound confident!_

"Who wants to know?" The man growled.

"My name's Sodapop Curtis," the blonde mumbled, his face tinged pink.

The man stood there in disbelief. "Yeah, right! And my name's coffee! Get off my doorstep!" He got ready to shut the door when a pale, delicate hand grabbed hold of it before it could clang shut."

"Daddy, this is Soda. We have a date tonight. Remember, I told you after school today?"

"Right! I forgot. Well, have fun, Amelia."

"It's Aim-" the loud _BANG!_ of the door slamming shut cut her off, but she didn't seem to bother. Turning back to Soda, she smiled at the now seething boy. "Don't worry, Sodapop, I'm used to it."

"Well, you shouldn't be," he snarled. The shorter girl placed a hand on his chest to restrain him from racing in there and giving Mr. Brown a piece of his mind.

"Calm down, Sodapop. Let's just go ahead."

He stayed stock still for another moment before relaxing and leading her to a truck. "Sorry, I don't have a car, so I'm borrowing my brother Darry's truck."

"It's perfect. Honestly, I prefer trucks and buses and cabs over Mustangs and Corvairs."

He looked at her in shock. "Why?"

"Well, Mustangs and Corvairs are so flashy and I like to blend into the background."

Soda seemed doubtful, but eventually, he just shrugged. "Well, okay."

He helped her into the passenger seat before rounding the car, climbing in, and staring the engine. Just before he drove off, he took a moment to study her.

Aimee was dressed in a blue and lavender tye dyed dress decorated with deep purple flowers and it reached her knees. Her pale skin was just slightly lighter than her sister's (probably because she didn't seem to go outside too much) and her dark hair reached just past her shoulders and was pulled over them with a cute curl at the end. When Soda had first met her, he'd thought how much Aimee had looked like Marcia, but he didn't peg them as twins because Aimee seemed to do everything she could to not look like her sister: not getting a tan, or wearing make up, wearing her hair longer, things like that. She wore white sandals and the only pieces of jewelry was a ring on her finger and a locket around her neck.

When she noticed him staring at her, she curled her hair around her finger and wouldn't meet his eyes as she mumbled, "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," Soda blushed when he was caught staring but quickly regained his composure. "Just admiring how pretty you look."

A light pink rose in her cheeks. "Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself."

Soda didn't think so. He was dressed in an old suit of Steve's that he'd worn to a school dance last month. It wasn't exactly horrible but it was a little wrinkled and the dress shoes were slightly scuffed. The blonde had decided to not wear hair grease tonight and let his light hair fall loose. That was when he realized that he was still holding the pretty pink and white corsage that he'd bought for her.

"Oh, um, I got this for you," he said, handing her the object and watching as she smiled and pinned it to her dress.

"It's lovely," she laughed. "Thank you."

He began to drive, trying not to focus on how sweaty he was or how much his hands were shaking.

 _Come on, Soda,_ he thought. _Keep it together! You've never been this nervous around a girl before!_

"Hey, Soda?" Aimee said. "Did you talk to your brother?"

Soda felt guilt bubbling in his stomach. "Yeah, he told me everything. Said he didn't tell me because he didn't think it matter."

For a moment, they sat in silence as Soda flashed back to the conversation he'd had with his fifteen-going-on-sixteen brother.

*FLASHBACK*

" _Ponyboy Michael Curtis, get your ass in here, now!" The blonde boy in the next room jumped at the shout and scurried into see his older brother, positively fuming. Soda never cursed; he never shouted; he never used Ponyboy's full name. Ever. "Why didn't you tell me?"_

 _"Tell you what?" Pony wondered. What could be bad enough that Soda would get this worked up about it?_

 _Soda sighed. "Come on. Let's sit down." The blonde seated himself on the worn coach and patted the spot next to him. Perplexed, the younger sat beside him and waited for Soda to say something._

 _"So, I was in the DX today, covering from Steve when a girl walks in. A girl from your school named Aimee Brown. While I get scan her items, we start talking and she mentioned a prank that her twin, Marcia, pulled on a kid recently." Ponyboy had no idea where this was going. "I told her that I was suprised that my brother didn't tell me about that and she asked me your name. I told her and she said that you were the one that got pranked. God, Pony, why didn't you tell me?"_

 _Meanwhile, Ponyboy was tapping his foot anxiously. Soda, Darry, or any of the gang for that matter was supposed to find out! "It happens all the time, Sodapop. It doesn't matter."_

 _"What? Of course, it does! How often does this happen?"_

 _Pony hesitated. He didn't want anyone to find out, but he wasn't getting out of this one. And he knew it. "Few times a week."_

 _Soda didn't say another word. He engulfed his baby brother in a hug and cried. One little prank: sure, he'd be upset but he'd get over it. But this wasn't just one little prank; this was bullying!_

 _The screen door creaked open and heavy footsteps alerted them of Darry's presence. The grocery bags he was carrying crashed to the floor when he saw the display before him._

 _"Oh, God, what happened?" He hadn't seen Soda cry in two years._

 _As if on a cue, the rest of the gang except for Steve strolled in and stood in shock._

 _Dally broke the sudden silence. "Alright, who do we have to kill?"_

*FLASHBACK OVER*

Sodapop was shaken out of the memory as he pulled into the restaurant, one of the best in town, and helped Aimee out of the car. Remembering what had happened made him more determined to say thank you after she had helped his brother.

After all this little 'date' was just to say thank you...

Wasn't it?


	3. Brown Eyes, Christmas, and Music

_WARNINGS: LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF TEEN PREGNANCY AND ALCOHOL_

 _I'm not dead, folks! And here's the next chapter; this is when things really start to kick off._

 **Disclaimer: Outsiders belong to the marvelous, amazing, unique, one and only... SE Hinton, not me.**

* * *

Sodapop helped Aimee out of the car and led her into the restaurant. It was a small place but famous for its wonderful food and it was middle class, so he could afford it. He and the brown haired girl were seated at a table for two, candles lighting their faces and lamps tinted red made their features glow romantically.

Soda blushed. He remembered him and Pony going to the Nightly Double and there was a romantic movie playing. The elder, laughing his head off at Pony's wide eyes, dragged him out of the theater, choking out something about not telling Darry he had let their kid brother see that. Anyway, this date was just like that film and if Pony or even Two Bit were here, they'd be calling it a cliché. Maybe it was.

"Soda? Are you okay?" Apparently, he'd been spacing out because now Aimee was smiling that slight grin at him.

"Oh, yeah, I was just amazed by your beautiful brown eyes," Soda covered his staring. Well, actually, it was partly true; Aimee Brown had chocolate wells for eyes that he could get lost in...

' _Snap out of it, Soda_!' He thought, resisting the urge to bonk himself over the head to get his train of thought back on track. ' _You broke up with Sandy less than a year ago. You don't need a relationship right now.'_

"Funny," Aimee giggled, a tinkling sound like a little bell that reverberated through his skull like a song you couldn't get out of your head. "I was thinking the same thing about you, Sodapop Curtis."

Soda felt his face heat up and he covered his face with the menu to hide the crimson staining his cheeks and the beads of sweat popping up on his forehead.

' _Damn it, Soda, why are you so nervous? You were never this nervous with Sandy or the other girl friends you've had. Hell, Aimee isn't even a girl friend! She's just a friend... right?'_

They ordered their food and Soda sipped his Pepsi while Aimee smiled as she took a drink of her Coke.

"You know, you're real pretty when your smile." Soda felt his neck heat up and his eyes widened. Why had he said that?

"And you're cute when you're flustered," she replied with a snicker. "Your face is bright red."

Soda gulped. "Is it now?"

"Yeah. Are you always this nervous with girls?"

"That's the strange thing; I've never been this nervous before," the blonde admitted. "Are you always this laid back around guys?"

"You're the first guy I've ever really been on a... date with, so I wouldn't know," Aimee confessed, twirling her straw in circles in her glass.

"Really?"

"Yep. I'm guessing you've been on dates before," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"Yeah. Most didn't last long; sometimes the girls would stay until they found out how poor I was and then, they'd go to the bathroom and never come back. The most serious dates I've ever had were with my ex, Sandy. She moved a while back after she got pregnant. It wasn't mine." Soda looked away. He hadn't even told that to Darry or Pony; hell, Steve didn't know. So why had he just told his deepest secret to a girl he barely knew?

Aimee's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's okay, how could you?"

Their food arrived and most of the meal was eaten in silence, but as they waited for the bill, they began to speak once more. Thankfully about more casual things.

"Do you like to read?" Aimee asked, awkwardly.

"Sometimes. I'm not very good at it, but if I like what I'm reading, I'll be through it in a couple of days. You?"

She smiled. "Yeah, my favorite book is a Christmas Carol."

The name triggered something in his brain and for a moment, he didn't say anything as he fought back tears.

* **FLASHBACK** *

" _God bless us, everyone!" The entire family from Mom and Dad to little Pony cheered as we finished a Christmas Carol._

 _This was a tradition. Every Christmas, we read a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens and every time, we chorused the last line. For that moment, everything seemed to fade away, but the fire, us, and the contents of the book in Mom's lap._

 _Mom and dad seemed to stop thinking about bills and taxes for one day and all of their gray hairs seemed to fade into masses of beautiful locks..._

 _Darry seemed less stressed about school and football and fitting in while being a Greaser. He even seemed to stop worrying about his friends as they slowly grew apart as the rift between Greasers and Socs widened..._

 _I stopped wondering what I would tell Mom and Dad when mid terms came and they saw that my grades were a C- at best and an F at the worst..._

 _Pony laughed easily and the timid child opened up more than ever as he seemed to retain that last bit of innocence he had in this world..._

 _I miss those days when we'd read by the fire and then, the gang would come over and we'd read it with them. After that, we'd all eat a feast cooked by Mom and we'd all sleep on the living room floor in each others arms._

 _But those days were long gone._

 ***FLASHBACK OVER** *

"Soda? Soda?!" Aimee's frantic, yet lovely voice, cut through his flashback and he jolted out of it, seeing her anxious expression.

"Are you okay?" She questioned. "You kind of spaced out."

"Oh, I'm fine," Soda replied, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "So, a _Christmas Carol_. I love that book; my family used to read it all the time at Christmas!"

Aimee appeared to be attempting to shrug off her worry. "Really? That's a fantastic tradition!"

"What does your family do at Christmas?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, nothing as at family. Marsha would either go to Cherry's or Randy's house to celebrate with their families. Mom goes to some party or visits her sister out-of town and Dad disappears all night. Pry gets drunk with some of his friends. "

The worst part about this was that she seemed so casual like this was normal for all families.

"You know," Soda grinned, "Christmas is coming up in a little under a month, and I was wondering if you would like to come to my house and see what a real Christmas is like?"

She gaped for a moment before smiling. "I would love too."

The couple payed and strolled outside. It was eight forty-five and the pair decided that they could take a walk in the park (after the incident, jumpings had died down drastically).

Soda and Aimee walked side by side along the curb, not really talking, just analyzing the dazzling night. It was an unnaturally warm winter, so no snow powdered ground or a sharp biting wind. In fact, it could have been called summer if you didn't know better.

"So, what's your favorite song?" The blonde tried to get a conversation going since he was deathly afraid of silence, according to the gang anyway, and couldn't stay quiet for more than a few minutes.

"Have you ever heard Paramore?" She asked. (I am aware that none of this music was around in the 1960s, but for the story's sake, pretend it was.)

Sodapop shook his head.

"Well, my favorite is their song, 'The Only Exception'," she said and he made a mental note to listen to it. "You?"

"'Stand by You', by Rachel Platten. Ever heard it?"

"No, but I'd like too," she said with a smile.

Suddenly, a buzzing noise rang clear into the night and Aimee jumped before reaching into her purse and withdrawing a phone (same thing, pretend they were around). After reading the message, she sighed.

"I gotta get home."

Soda nodded and assisted her into the truck with a grin of understanding. He'd better get home too or he'd never hear the end of it. Not from Darry, but from Steve, Dally, and Two Bit. Jerks.

They pulled into her drive way, and just before she got out, Soda took a deep breath and stopped her. "Hey, do you have any plans next Saturday? Maybe we could... go out for lunch?"

She smiled, "I'd like that, Soda." Aimee turned to disembark the vehicle before she whirled around, pecked Soda on the cheek, and scrambled to her door before he could utter a word.

He sat there for a long time before pulling away with one last thought:

He's got it bad.

* * *

 _Read and Review!_


	4. Young Love

_I am so sorry! I feel so ashamed; it has been over a month, maybe two months, since I last updated. Please forgive me, and I hope the next couple of chapters make up for it._

 _By the way, this does take place in present times as there are references to present day electronics and celebrities that didn't exist in the 1960s._

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders._**

* * *

 _Time skip to the following Saturday_

"Hey, Aimee!" Sodapop cheered as he wrapped the rather suprised girl in a hug. It wasn't that Aimee didn't like him; she just wasn't used to hugs with a family like her's.

"Sodapop, it's so nice to see you again!" She greeted. "And you look rather spiffy as well; I feel underdressed."

She wore a simple purple skirt with a light pink shirt and white slip on shoes. Her hair was naturally wavy but she'd put it in a ponytail on that windy day to keep it out of her face. A simple lavender purse that she always carried hung from her shoulder.

Soda meanwhile was wearing a nice button up shirt with a pair of black jeans so fancy they could've passed for dress pants. He'd left the hair grease at home and his blonde hair was loose around his shoulders. On his feet were his only pair of tennis shoes that weren't dirty or bordering on ruined.

Soda's face went red. "That was Steve's idea. I was just gonna come here in a nice T-shirt and jeans, but he wouldn't let me leave the DX until I dressed up for our date."

Aimee's laughter tinkled like a bell and her and Sodapop turned to walk into the nearby café for lunch.

"So, how's life?" Soda asked, grinning cheekily.

Aimee giggled. "It's good. Anything specific?" She questioned in a mock professional voice.

"How is your education, Ms. Brown?" Soda said, copying her tone of voice.

"Rather splendid, Mr. Curtis," Aimee responded. "Straight A's, as usual of course. How is work, good sir?"

"Fantastic," Soda drawled. "Steve has been a great supporter of our relationship, ma reine."

"You speak French?" Aimee gasped, sounding genuinely suprised.

"My family is very diverse. My mom was the first Christian in her Jewish family since she decided on her own religion versus following one she didn't believe in. She actually met my dad at a church. Anyway, I grew up around different religions and even more languages. My mom took Italian in High school and my dad took Spanish. My brother, Darry, took French and each of them taught us everything they could about languages," Soda smiled at the memory of his parents and those times when Darry wasn't stressed out.

Aimee smiled slightly, but her face was still confused. "I can understand wanting to share your knowledge with children, but why go to so much trouble to do it?"

Soda shrugged. "My mom dropped out of a Jewish school when she was seventeen before graduation and Dad flunked out of school. He's like me, got all the character, not so much on the brains."

Aimee reached across the table to grab Sodapop's hand before she could rethink the action. "You are smart, Soda. You don't give yourself enough credit."

Soda snorted. "I dropped put of school to get a job at a gasoline station. It took me two months to learn 2+2 back in kindergarten. I remember because I had to take a test to check for disabilities. Apparently, I was just flat out stupid,"

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis!" Aimee snapped. Soda looked up from his Pepsi in suprise. "You are one of the smartest people I know! You may not be good at school or tests, but you're good at tons of stuff. You work with money and cars, which means you have to be good at math and science! You know all these different languages and you have street smarts that are so good, they're scary."

"Thanks," Soda whispered, but he didn't look as convinced as Aimee wanted him to be.

"Soda, I don't care if you have a diploma or make thousands a week. I don't care if you have a grand job or if you know all of your multiplication facts. I love you, Sodapop Curtis, for who you are and nothing you can do or say will change that. And wow, that sounded sappy and cheesy, didn't it?" Aimee blushed.

Soda laughed. "It did, but I'll tell you a secret, I like sappy and cheesy. Especially when you do it because you make the most cliché things sound unique."

Aimee rasped her eyebrows, recognizing the hidden challenge. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, my angel?"

"Are you from Tennessee cause you're the only ten I see?"

"I might as well call you Google because you have everything I need."

"You must be a banana because I find you a peeling!"

"If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put I and U next to each other."

"Can I walk you home? My mom always said to follow my dreams."

Aimee's giggles made several people in the café grin.

"Young love," a middle aged man with thinning blonde hair said. "Remember when you and me were like that, honey?"

"Yeah, sweetie. Maybe they'll be just as lucky, baby," his wife whispered and kissed him softly.

"This makes me believe in love again. For the first time since your mother passed," the man blinked away the tears in his eyes.

His twenty three year old daughter reached across the table and grabbed her father's hand. "Then do you say yes?"

Her father took a deep breath. "Yes because I love you and you love him. I just pray he's good enough for you, and I will be watching."

"Thank you, daddy," the woman screamed before looping her arms around her fiance's neck and kissing him passionately. Then she practically leapt across the table to embrace her father and after she released him, the fiance shook his soon to be father in law's hand.

"Thank you, sir. Maybe those kids'll be as lucky as us someday," the fiance grinned over at the pair in the corner and the man nodded.

"Maybe love isn't a trap," one man grumbled, begrudgingly, as he slid his wedding ring off his finger and the recently divorced man payed before leaving. Who knows? Maybe Aimee and Soda inspired him to search for love again and maybe he'll find it. We'll never know.

A heart broken teenage girl with black hair sat in the corner. "Maybe I can be like that someday."

With a small smile, she fiddled with a coin in her fingers before rushing out the door to call someone.

"Okay, okay, you win, Aimee!" Sodapop relented. "You are by far the cheesiest person I have ever met."

"Thank you, thank you very much," she joked in a very bad impression of Elvis Presley.

Soda's eyes widened. "Aimee, I love you, but please, don't do that again. There is only one Elvis Presley and one Two Matthews that can imitate him perfectly."

Aimee laughed and Soda took a deep breath. She looked at him, curiously.

"Aimee, I am about to ask you a very important question, and I understand if you say no, but I just... I just want to out the idea out there and I don't want this to ruin our relationship," Soda stammered.

Aimee nodded, cautiously and anxious.

"I was wondering if you would want to come to my house next Saturday maybe and... meetmybrothersandfriends?!" Sodapop's words came out in a rush and Aimee's eyes widened.

"Soda, I can't understand you."

"Would you like to come over next Saturday and meet my brothers and friends?" Soda said in a voice in a little over a whisper.

Aimee stayed silent for a moment and Soda immediately assumed the worst.

"Oh, I understand if you don't want to. It's kind of soon and-"

"Yes."

"... What?"

"I've been waiting for this, Sodapop Curtis!" She practically tackled him with the hug she gave him. "I can't wait to meet Darry, Pony, and the others. They sound amazing, Soda."

"They really are and if you don't mind, I'd like to follow through on my last cheesy comment."

"A true gentleman," Aimee giggled.

"Well, like I said, Mama always did tell me to follow my dreams, " he said in an almost perfect Texan accent.

"Come on, jokester," she laughed, taking his hand and tugging him out the door after they paid.

Soda and Aimee walked along towards her house, which was very close much to Soda's disappointment.

"Goodbye, Soda, I'll see you next weekend," she said and kissed the blushing boy on the cheek before entering her house.

Smiling, Soda took out his flip phone and hit the first number on speed dial.

"'Ello, Darry, would you do me a favor and call the gang, telling them to pick out a decent outfit for next Saturday? Aimee's coming."

He heard Darry chuckle and he quickly hung up.

Looking at the sky, he whispered, "God, I don't know if you're real after everything that's happened since Mom and Dad died, but... thanks for Aimee. She's my salvation and I will do everything to make sure I'm worthy of someone like her. I'm not lying or being cheesy when I'm say I'm positive that she was sent straight from heaven. Thank you."

* * *

 _I really wasn't sure how to end this chapter, so sorry first I didn't end it okay. Review, review, review! Thanks!_

 _Feel free to recommend ideas because this is going to be a one hundred chapter story, so I'll need some ideas for more chapters. Thanks, and I will make sure to recognize those that give me ideas. The update will be sooner this time, I promise!_

 _-Myra109_


	5. Meeting the Gang

_this is a pretty short chapter and not as good as some of my others, but the next chapter will make up for it! Thank you! Read and review!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Outsiders!_**

* * *

"You ready for this?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Aimee answered, smiling shakily and trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Soda shrugged. "They aren't bad people, if that's what you're thinking, but they're labeled that way. You know because of the whole Greaser thing."

"That's not what I was thinking, but do you think they'll like me- being a Soc and all?" She clarified.

Soda grinned and laughed. "They won't care! They only hate jerks, and you, Aimee Brown, are not a jerk."

She smiled, mischievously. "And you, Sodapop Curtis, are not a jerk either, but you can get a big head."

"What?!" Soda yelped, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. "How dare you?"

"I know! How rude of me. Here, you are being such a gentleman and I am being terribly rude. Please forgive me," she pouted, but a small smile couldn't stay off of her lips.

Soda humphed and crossed his arms jokingly.

Aimee grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "Now, will you forgive me, Sir Sodapop?" She murmured, popping the p.

Soda's face had turned a frightening shade of crimson. "Uh, yeah, um, uh-huh."

Aimee giggled and hopped out of the truck with new found confidence. She practically skipped up the steps with a still very red Sodapop following behind her.

"After you, my lady," Soda said with a bow as he opened the screen door.

"Why thank you, good sir," she said in that same horrible British accent the two were conversing in.

Aimee stepped inside and all of her confidence left her.

They sure looked scary, despite what Soda told her, and she was unnerved by the way they all spun to face her as she stepped in.

On the sofa, three boys lounged next to each other. One was African American with his legs in braces and big black eyes blinking at her, curiously but definitely not rudely. He wore a black shirt and jeans that had not one hole in them, which was rare for Greaser. They typically wore torn jeans and leather jackets, but they'd all gone out of there way to dress nicely. Sitting in the middle was a boy that looked so much like Sodapop, she immediately knew that this fourteen year old must be Ponyboy. His greenish-gray eyes stared at her, analyzing her every move, and he wore a Navy blue shirt with dark jeans and his hair neatly combed and greased. And the nearest to her was a blonde teen with icy blue eyes glaring at her. The eyes of Dallas Winston. Even he had decided to dress semi decent in a dark green tee and black jeans.

Seated on the floor with a beer in one hand and staring intently at the Mickey Mouse cartoon on the screen was a boy that was pry eighteenish. He wore a light blue T-shirt with old blue jeans, but still nice. Even he turned around to stare at her, Mickey forgotten.

That kid from the DX, Steve, was seated at a card table, waving. His clothes consisted of a white shirt and blue jeans. And in the arm chair was a muscular man she immediately knew was Darry. One, he was the oldest, and two, he was the only one that looked like he could go ten rounds with Chuck Norris without breaking a sweat!

"Hi," she squeaked, waving awkwardly. "I'm Aimee, Soda's girl... girlfriend."

"'Sup?" The guy on the floor said before turning back to the TV.

"That's Two Bit," Soda explained. "He loves Mickey Mouse more than anything in the world."

"'Cept beer!" Two Bit yelled, holding up the bottle.

"Except beer," Soda corrected, rolling his eyes.

"And you know Steve," he gestured to the said teen, who smiled and nodded.

"Hey, Aims!" He called.

"Aims?" She said, questionably.

Steve shrugged. "My new nickname for you."

She shrugged in return. "Why not?"

"And this is Dally," Soda pointed to the oldest teen on the couch.

"So you're the famous Aimee," Dally drawled, leaning forward to get a better look at her.

"Hi," she greeted.

"Watch it, Dally," Soda growled under his breath. "He has a grudge against Socs."

"With a good reason!" Dally barked. "But I actually like her, Soda. Good choice."

"Better than good," Soda corrected, laughing at Aimee's scarlet skin. "And that's Johnny."

She knew Johnny from all the papers and she grinned at the smiling boy.

"Hey, Aimee!" He said with a wave of his hand.

"And last but not least, we have Darry and Ponyboy," Soda waved his hands in his brothers' directions.

"Welcome to our home, Aimee," Darry smiled.

"Nice to see you," Pony nodded with a grateful smile. She suspected that Soda had told him that she'd been the one to help him after the prank.

Aimee wound up having a good time with the gang, playing cards and whopping their butts each and every time; dancing around to the tunes on the music channel; soaking Steve with water as a trick. It was all so different from Marcia's get togethers or the family nights the Browns should have but never do that Aimee found herself longing to be a Greaser, regardless of money or status or any of that junk.

Alas, the time came when they had to say goodbye and after hugging the gang members and promising to return the following week, she and Sodapop left. The couple decided to step walk home, so that they could have more alone time.

"Sooo..." Soda mumbled, "what'd you think of the gang?"

"I loved them, Soda!" Aimee exclaimed. "Is it always like that?"

"Well, yeah," Soda told her, looking confused. "Why?"

Aimee looked away. "My family and friends aren't big on fun. When we do get together, we really just sit around for an hour and then leave. That was the most fun I've had in ages!"

"Well, feel free to come around whenever you want," he took her hand and grinned. "Our door is always open."

"Thanks, Soda. Love you." She kissed him on the cheek and walked into her house.

"Love you too!" He called.

As Soda strolled home, he smiled to himself and cradled the cheek his girlfriend had lightly kissed minutes ago. Tonight had been perfect.

Until... "Oi, Greaser!"

Soda spun around just in time for a fist to connect with his nose and for him to go tumbling to the sidewalk...

* * *

 _A cliffhanger! And not a bad one, I hope! Stay tuned for next time and feel free to leave suggestions! Review, please._


	6. Dreaming of Love and War

_sorry for the long awaited update, but I think that this is actually knew of my best chapters, so hopefully it makes up for that._

 _WARNINGS: LANGUAGE, SOME BLOOD, WAR, VIOLENCE_

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders_**

* * *

Kick, kick! Punch, kick! Punch! Slap!

Soda curled into a ball on the sidewalk, moaning. His ribs felt like they were going to snap any second I'd this guy didn't stop kicking him. Bruises were blossoming on his skin, and the guys shoes and rings were starting to cut into his skin.

"What the fuck?" Soda ground out, gritting his teeth against the pain.

The guy laughed cruelly before delivering another sharp kick to the stomach. "That'll teach you to date my girl, you piece of trash!"

Soda yelped as the kick sent waves of pain from his stomach to his head before vomiting up some blood and stomach acid on the sidewalk.

"W-What?" He stuttered.

"Dont play dumb!" His attacker snapped. "You think you're good enough for her? Well, guess what? I can give her anything- money, jewelry, fancy dinners! That's more than a Greaser like you can."

Through his muddled brain, Soda could tell he was talking about Aimee. "But you can't give her love," he murmured, coming dangerously close to passing out on the sidewalk. One more kick to the face and he did just that.

* * *

He was standing in a gymnasium, clasping hands with Aimee Brown. Streamers decorated the walls, along with banners and balloons and confetti was strewn across the floor. A banner on the back wall read PROM and romantic music played softly from a stereo.

"I love you, Soda," Aimee murmured into his shoulder and he smiled, smoothing her dark, wavy brown hair.

"I love you, too, Aimee," he whispered.

He perked up suddenly as Stand By You suddenly began to blare from the speakers and he led Aimee into a dance.

"Even we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you," he sang, twirling a giggling Aimee.

"I'm gonna stand by you!" Aimee sang, kissing Soda lightly on the lips. "I'll never leave you, Sodapop."

"And I'll never leave you, Aimee."

Sniffle.

"Aimee, what's wrong?"

"Please don't hate me, Soda," she whispered, choking back a sob.

"How could I hate my one and only- my only exception?" He mumbled, saying it like it was a joke they'd shared before, but concern rippled through his gut.

"I love you, Soda, and love survives the deepest darkest times. Alas, our tale will be very much like Romeo and Juliet- tragic and not destined for a happy ending. Just don't leave me, Soda. I love you," she whimpered.

"I love you... too," he trailed off as the scenery around him changed and he was standing on a battlefield in a green uniform. The uniform of a soldier.

The world around him as chaos. Men dressed in similar uniforms to his knelt on the ground, shooting with their rifles. Many cowered on the ground, gripping wounds that oozed too much blood too fast.

"Curtis!" A voice screamed and Soda turned back just in time to duck as a bullet raced over his head.

"Thanks!" He shouted over his shoulder, wincing as he pulled the trigger and his gun went off, the sound ringing in his ears.

"Dont mention it!"

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ Bullet after bullet shot from his gun and Soda was so scared. He wanted to curl up in his parents' bed, burrowing his head into his mommy's stomach like he did when he was little. He didn't want to have to fight anymore.

"Please," he whimpered. "Please."

But then he thought of Aimee. Sweet, loving Aimee, rubbing circles into her tummy as she giggled and cried with joy. He thought of Pony and Darry, who would die without him because he wouldn't be there to comfort them or keep the peace. He thought of Steve, who needed his best friend. He thought of Johnny and Dally and Two Bit, who had already suffered so much in their lives. How would they react to Sodapop's death?

"For Aimee," he whispered as he continued to pull the trigger over and over again, not really aiming. Just keeping his brown eyes closed against the horrific war.

Scream. Soda turned back to see a comrade fall to the dirt, weeping painfully.

It's remarkable how much he looked like Ponyboy with that head of blonde hair that was almost too light to be natural. His eyes were a green color that blinked blearly at the world around him, and they were rapidly nearing glassy. And with glassy would come empty.

Soda didn't think. He reacted as he had done all those years ago when Pony had passed out on the ground not even two hours after the rumble. Soda dove forward and supported the man, who was much heavier than his brother had been, and attempted to yank him off the battlefield.

"Come on, Linc, don't die on me now," he hissed. Soda wasn't really sure how he knew the name of a man he'd never seen before, but he didn't have time to think about it. He just dragged both him and Linc away from the battle- as far away as possible.

Soda really wasn't sure what was happening- shock, maybe?- but every time he'd heard a scream or a yelp, he convinced himself that it was Pony or Johnny or Dally or Darry or anyone he cared about. Before he knew it, he was racing back onto the battlefield.

When he broke into the clearing, he nearly ripped over a man on the ground, grasping his knee like his life depended on it. Soda looked closer and saw the guy's hair, curling into complicated swirls just like Steve's and he was lugging the soldier away.

Every time he went back to the battle, he managed to see a resemblance to his family and friends- the way that one guy had naturally shining eyes even when they were filled with tears, just like Two Bit's; the big black eyes of one soldier that reminded him of Johnny; the muscular build of a man that looked like Darry. The man with dark brown hair and those shadowed eyes that always looked like those of a small child scared off the dark. Eyes like Aimee's.

Soda dragged them all off the battlefield and as he burst into the clearing, he reached for a red haired man that reminded him of how Pony used to look. Then the world seemed go quiet.

Gunfire didn't stop, but in Soda's ears, it did. Something was very, very wrong.

Then came the explosion.

* * *

Soda gasped for air as he awakened from his sleep (was it sleep if you were knocked out?).

"Finally, you're awake," a girl's voice drawled, somewhat annoyed.

Soda turned his head to the side to get a good look at her, and his jaw dropped.

"Aimee!?"

* * *

 _Cliff Hanger! And PS, remember those dreams, they're going to be very important in this story._

 _Review!_


	7. The Evil Twin

_I'm back. This is a short chapter by my standards at least, but it's also very good. This is actually where some Cherry/Dally kicks off and there will be more on that next chapter. Enjoy and remember the golden rule of fanfiction... **REVIEW!** Thank you!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

"Close," the girl smirked.

Soda took in her appearance that looked just like Aimee, but her eyes were cold and her lips were quirked up in a sneer.

"Martha," he whispered.

She nodded. "Apparently, you're not as dumb as you look. I'm here for a reason. Can you guess what that reason is?"

"I'm not gonna stay away from Aimee," Soda replied, calmly but firmly. Nothing anyone could do could change his mind.

Martha rolled her dark eyes. "I didn't expect you, too, but I have a deal for you, Soda." She knelt down on the sidewalk, her dress a millimeter above from the shimmering puddle of the blonde's blood.

"Look, Soda," she growled. "I have an advantage. My family's reputation will not be ruined by a filthy Greaser!" Her pointy shoes kicked his ribs and Soda gasped in pain.

"That's what this is all about?" He muttered, angrily. "Your family's reputation?! You don't care about Aimee's feelings at all, do you?"

Martha shrugged. "Honestly, not really, but I do know that everyone would be better off if she dated a respectable Soc like John Cabot." She gestured to the boy next to her.

He was tall and thin with dark hair and blue eyes that reflected something beyond anger. An emotion Soda couldn't place. He wore a yellow madris shirt and crisp jeans stained with scarlet liquid. His knuckles were coated in crimson and split.

"John Cabot?" Soda mumbled, remembering about that explorer he learned about in eighth grade. Shaking his head, he tried to focus on the situation at hand. "That's why you did this to me? Because I'm dating Aimee?"

John rolled his eyes. "Of course. No wonder you dropped out; you are dumb."

Soda's temper flared and he opened his mouth to spit out an insult, but something stopped him. There was a flash of emotion in John's eyes other than rage; a raw, open kind of sadness. John was angry, but more so... he was heart broken.

"Look, I can see you really like Aimee, but news flash, buddy. She doesn't like you back. If you don't move on, then, you're never gonna be happy, so stop wasting your time jumping Aimee's boyfriends and go find yourself someone to date other than Aimee Brown," Soda snarled. Wow, he sounded possessive and maybe even cruel, but hey, this guy had insulted Soda's intelligence! Look, Soda will admit he's not the brightest crayon in the box, but that doesn't mean he likes people pointing it out.

John's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Martha cut him off.

"Enough about this!" She snapped. "Stay away from my sister or else!"

"Or else what?" Soda said in a false innocent voice.

He expected her to kick or hit him or maybe even tell John to do it, but he knew he was in trouble when Martha smiled coldly.

"Because I have leverage. You don't attend Will Rogers High School anymore and even if you did, you can't be with that little brother of your's all the time," she sneered.

Soda's heart dropped out of his chest. She was threatening Ponyboy! What was he going to do?

"You wouldn't dare," he snarled, his voice shaking with fear for his kid brother and anger that she had the nerve to use his family to keep him away from Aimee.

She smirked. "Oh, I would, Sodapop. Pony's only told you a fraction of the bullying he endures. And we'll make it even worse. Can you imagine how poor little Pony would feel when he finds out his big brother is the cause of it?"

"Leave Pony out of this!" He shouted. "He didn't do anything to you!"

"He killed Bob!" Martha snapped. "Randy broke up with me because he was grieving and he didn't want to drag me down with him! Well, guess what? If Ponyboy and that Johnny kid hadn't killed Bob, he wouldn't have broken up with me."

"Do you hear yourself, Brown?" Soda gaped. "That sounds beyond stupid!"

"It's true! Now, you heard me! Stay away from Aimee or Ponyboy will wish he died in that fire." With that final statement, she spun on her heel and stormed away from the bleeding, closely followed by a shocked John Cabot.

Soda groaned and stumbled to his feet, heading towards home. Of course, home was three blocks away and his entire body hurt like hell. And judging by the amount of blood and bruising, he must of looked like hell too.

The lights were off at the Curtis residence when he arrived home, meaning Darry and Pony were already in bed and he thanked whoever was listening. He may just get off.

Slowly, he creaked open the door, flicked on the light, and crept towards his bedroom.

"Where have you been?"

He spun around. "Darry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

But it wasn't Darry. It wasn't even Ponyboy. Dallas Winston was sitting on the couch with a first aid kit on his lap.

"Dally-"

"No questions. Sit and explain what happened tonight with Aimee, her twin, and that kid named after the explorer," Dally commanded.

"How did you know?"

"I saw it, Sodapop."

He was dead.

* * *

Martha smirked as she reclined in her desk chair, her arms behind her head as she went through tonight's events in her head.

Fool proof, and Aimee never had to know.

She stared down at the photo of Aimee and Sodapop seated together at the café and with an almost animalistic growl, flicked open a lighter. She held it up and slowly, began to burn away the part of the photograph that displayed Sodapop Curtis.

She couldn't let her family's reputation be ruined. Aimee did that enough by dating Greasers and riding around in beat up trucks with no good hoods. Martha was the only one that could restore the family reputation and social status. But she couldn't do it all alone; she needed her twin on her side.

She heard footsteps and the door creaked open. Soda had probably called his precious girlfriend and told her all about what Martha had done. Oh well, Martha better call her friends and give them the new victim of their torment: Ponyboy Curtis.

But, it wasn't Aimee. It wasn't her dad, nor was it her mom.

"Martha, we need to talk."

Shocked, Martha spun around to look into the bright, but rageful, green eyes of Cherry Valance.

* * *

 _thanks for reading and feel free to leave any suggestions for the story. This is going to be a very long story and I need some fill in the blanks, so just leave a suggestion. Thank you!_


	8. What Dally and Cherry Saw

_hello! This is more of a filler chapter, so it is shorter than usual but next chapter will be the conversation and it'll be exciting to see how that plays out!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Cherry froze in her tracks and she reached out send stopped her biyfriend, Dally, from walking any further. She gestured to the dark alleyway with her head and tapped her ear as a sign that they should listen.

"Enough about this!" Marcia's voice snapped from the dark. "Stay away from my sister or else!"

"Or else what?" Soda's falsely sweet voice said.

"Because I have leverage. You don't attend Will Rogers School anymore, and even if you did, you can't be with that little brother of your's all the time," they could hear the sneer in Marcia's voice.

Cherry felt Dally's hand tighten on her arm, and she knew he was ready to come out swinging on Marcia Brown. The redhead put an arm out in front of her boyfriend as a way to tell him to wait.

"You wouldn't dare," Soda growled out.

"Oh, but I would," Marcia smirked. "Ponyboy has only told you a fraction of the bullying he endures. And we'll make it much worse. Can you imagine how poor, little Pony will feel when he finds out his big brother is the cause of it?"

Dally took a step forward and Cherry could barely stop him from going in there and pounding Marcia into the ground for threatening the 'kid brother' of their gang.

"Leave Ponyboy out of this!" Soda shouted. "He didn't do nothing to you!"

"He killed Bob!" Marcia snapped. "Randy broke up with me because he was grieving and didn't want to drag me down with him! If Ponyboy and that Johnny kid hadn't killed Bob, Randy wouldn't have broken up with me!"

At the mention of Johnny, Dally almost broke out of Cherry's restraining hands, but she managed to hold him back with a kiss on the cheek that stunned him into freezing in place.

"Do you hear yourself, Brown?" Soda gasped. "That sounds beyond stupid!"

'Agreed!' Cherry thought. 'But Marcia wasn't always the brightest crayon in the box.'

"It's true! Now, you heard me! Stay away from Aimee or Ponyboy will wish he'd died in that fire!"

Dally growled so loudly and in such a feral like fashion that Cherry was worried Marcia and Soda would hear him.

Marcia stormed out of the alleyway and Cherry yanked her boyfriend behind some trashcans near them. Marcia, the hem of her skirt dripping with scarlet, was followed by John Cabot, who was covered in blood and had split knuckles.

"Who-" Dally began.

"John Cabot."

"Isn't he an explorer?"

"No- well, yes, but he's also a violent teenager with a jealousy problem that goes to my school. "

"Gotcha."

Cherry peeked around the corner and looked at Soda, who looked even worse than she'd thought.

He was soaked with his own blood and bruised up pretty badly. A cut dragged from one of his temples across his forehead before it disappeared into his hairline. Ripped and torn, his clothes could barley be considered clothes anymore because they were little more than straps of fabric. Clumps of his hair were missing, most likely torn out by John Cabot, and his face was contorted in pain.

"Damn," he whispered before stumbling to his feet and staggering in he direction of the Curtis home.

"Dally?"

"I know."

"How do we stop it?"

"Well, we start by talking to them. Soda needs to know that I'll make sure Ponyboy is watched out for and that he shouldn't break up with Aimee because that would break both of their hearts. Marcia needs to wake up and stop being such a jerk," Dally answered.

"What about Ponyboy?" Cherry asked. There was no way she was letting her friend- the reason she wasn't a jerk towards Greasers anymore- get hurt.

"Well, I'll talk with Steve, Johnny, and Two Bit. I'm sure they'll watch out for him because when it comes to the Curtis', all of of us step in. They're the glue that keeps this gang together."

Cherry stared at her boyfriend in shock. "That is the wisest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Don't tell anyone. It would ruin my entire reputation," Dally said with a smile that was somehow both sheepish and mischievous.

"Well, we can't have that now can we?" She smirked and they began to kiss passionately.

This went on for about two minutes before they pulled away, both realizing what they were forgetting.

"Soda," Dally said.

"Marcia," Cherry agreed and with one last peck on the lips, they parted ways.

* * *

Soda must have been really beat up because Dally somehow managed to beat the blonde to the Curtis house.

He sat on the couch, fiddling with the first aid kit in his lap until after what seemed like forever, the door opened to reveal Sodapop Curtis.

At first, the injured Greaser didn't notice his friend on the sofa as he tip toed towards his bedroom door.

"Where have you been?" Dally asked in his best Darry impression.

Soda whirled around. "Darry, I am so sorry. I didn't mean-" He stopped.

"Dally-"

"No questions," Dally said, sternly. "Sit sown and explain to me what happened with Aimee, her twin, and the kid named after the explorer."

"How did you know?"

"I saw it, Sodapop."

Judging from the look on his face, Soda knew he was screwed.

* * *

Meanwhile, Cherry knocked on the door of the Brown household.

The door opened to reveal Aimee Brown.

"Hey, Cherry," she greeted. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, hi, Aimee, could I speak to Marcia?"

"Of course, she's in her room."

"Thanks." Cherry strolled into Marcia's room with purpose and rising rage.

"Marcia, we need to talk," she said.

Shocked brown met rageful green.

* * *

 _until next time, my friends, and by the way, I'm kind of at a loss of where to take the story after next chapter, so feel free to give me ideas. Thanks!_


	9. Conversations

_sorry for the delay but I'm back with Soda's talk with Dally!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nada!_**

* * *

"Soda, sit," Dally commanded. It wasn't a request; it never was with Dallas Winston.

Soda obeyed, seating his bruised body beside Dally, who offered him an ice pack and he gratefully took it.

The blonde hood took a gauze and started to dab at Soda's cut- the one on his forehead- which had started to ooze so much blood, it fell into his brown eyes, making his vision possess a reddish tint.

"Damn, Soda," Dally muttered. "Hope you don't need stitches."

Soda sat bolt up right, shaking his head wildly.

Dally laughed. "Seriously, Soda? You'll take a whooping from a dozen Socs at once, but heaven forbid, anyone come near you with a needle."

Soda raised his eyebrows, attempting and failing to do the one eyebrow thing Two Bit did. "If I recall, you got scared of a bunny rabbit on that camping trip. I mean, really- the great Dallas Winston scared of a bunny rabbit!"

Dally blushed. "We've all got fears, okay? And besides, bunnies are evil."

"What ever you say, Dally. What ever you say."

Dally took a bandage out of the box and pasted it on Soda's forehead.

Soda was honestly shocked. He'd only ever seen Dally this gentle and caring when Pony and Johnny were concerned, which meant...

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis, you better tell me what happened tonight."

Ah, there's the overprotective Dally he knew. He didn't yell the statement, but Soda wished he did; when he spoke in that tone, he sounded like Darry and everything came pouring out.

"Well, I'd just walked Aimee home after seeing you guys and this kid jumped me. His name was John Cabot, like that explorer we learned about in eighth grade, and then, after beating on me pretty good, a girl stepped out of the shadows. At first, I thought it was Aimee, but then, I recognized her as Marcia, Aimee's twin sister.

"She started telling me to stay away from Aimee or else. When I asked else what, she threatened Pony, telling me she'd make his life a living hell if I didn't break up with Aimee. I don't know what to do, Dally! I just don't want anyone to get hurt!"

"No one has to, Sodapop," Dally said. "I'm going to tell Two Bit, Steve, and Johnny that someone's been bugging Pony at school, and that he's too independent to admit it. They'll watch out for him. And you can continue to date Aimee, and we just keep the two of you away from Marcia for as long as we can."

Soda snorted. "That's gonna be kind of hard. They live in the same house."

"She can stay with you guys. Hell, she could stay with Two Bit if you guys don't have the room. I'm pretty sure she has plenty of friends to bunk with. We have a lot of options, but I will not let you break up with her. I see how much you love her- more than you ever loved Sandy- and I will not let both you and that sweet girl get hurt by this. Deal?"

"When did you become so wise, Dally?"

Dally grinned. "Comes with growing up fast, Soda. You learn a few things. Why do you think Pony and Johnny are so smart?

Soda smiled, thinly. "Thanks, Dal."

"Don't mention it. That's what friends are for."

"What the hell happened to you?!"

The two boys whipped around to face the doorway.

Soda smiled, sheepishly. "Hey, Darry."

Darry took a shaky breath, closing his eyes as if that could change the sight of his battered brother before him. "Soda, I will ask you one more time... what... the hell... happened... to you?!"

"Well, Marcia happened. She and this other kid jumped me and well, here I am," Soda responded, opting not to tell his elder brother about the threat. He knew that that would not end well.

Darry was frozen, his eyes wide. "What else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know there's something else, Sodapop. Tell me."

Soda turned to Dally, who shrugged as if to say, 'You're call.'

He took a deep breath. He knew he wasn't getting out of this one; Darry always knew when he was lying.

"She may have... threatened... um, Ponyboy," Soda closed his eyes, preparing himself for the explosion that was about to come.

"What?!" Darry growled, loudly. "What the fuck did she say?"

"She said that if I didn't break up with Aimee she'd make Ponyboy's life a living hell. What do I do, Darry?" Soda cried, his head in his hands.

"Well," Darry sighed, "you are not breaking up with that sweet girl. That may break both of you. Dally and I will talk with the guys and tell them to watch out for Pony. Deal?"

Soda nodded. "What do we tell Pon-"

"Tell me what?" A voice asked from the doorway.

Three heads whipped around to face Ponyboy, who was sleepily leaning against the doorframe.

"We didn't want to tell you that..." Darry trailed off, his mind racing a million miles an hour as he frantically searched for an excuse.

"That Aimee's gonna be staying with us for a while!" Soda blurted. "It was going to be a surprise."

Darry and Dally turned to Soda, who shrugged and they nodded like ' _Nice save.'_

Pony yawned tiredly before nodding. "Okay, but could you keep it down? I'm pretty sure the neighbors can hear ya'."

"Got it, little brother," Soda teased. "Now, get back to bed. You need your beauty sleep."

"Shut up, Soda," Pony grumbled before returning to his bedroom.

"Well, that was close," Dally said and the other two nodded in agreement.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, two girls glowered at each other.

"What happened to you, Marcia?" The red haired girl asked. "The night that Bob died, you were perpared to drop everything to go on a date with a Greaser. Now, you don't want anything to do with them."

"Well, maybe I've changed, Cherry. Do me a favor and stay out of my life!" The other girl growled.

It was hard to believe that those two girls had once been best friends.

* * *

 _sorry for the short chapter, but I'm having a bit of writer's block. Next chapter will be the confrontation between Cherry and Marcia. See you then!_

 _But the way, I've been looking through the chapters of this story and I noticed a lot of typos. I'm sorry for those, but I have a faulty autocorrect and I did spell Marcia's name wrong in one chapter. That is because Marcia is not a common name where I'm from, so I apologize for all the spelling errors._


	10. The Cycle of Hurt

_I've returned! Just so you know, this is a pretty dark chapter, so you have been warned._

 _WARNINGS: UNDERAGE DRINKING, MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDER AND DRUG ABUSE, BULLYING, LANGUAGE!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

"Marcia, we need to talk," Cherry said as she stepped into the room, her eyes filled with anger, disappointment, and betrayal.

"About what?" Marcia asked, innocently, stuffing the picture into her desk drawer and turning to face her old friend.

"You... and your behavior," Cherry said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"What ever do you mean, Sherri?" Marcia said, the threat and anger evident in the use of the redhead's true name.

"Dont play dumb with me, Marcia!" Cherry's voice cracked. It truly hurt to see her friend like this. "I saw what you did to Soda tonight! What happened to you, Marcia? Before Bob died, you were prepared to drop everything to go out with a Greaser! Now, you don't want anything to do with them!"

"Well, maybe I've changed, Cherry!" Marcia growled. "Now, do me a favor and stay out of my life."

"You need help, Marcia," Cherry said, taking a deep, calming breath.

"No, I don't! Why would I need help?" Marcia glared.

Cherry sighed. "I'm your best friend, Marcia. I know all your best hiding places."

Before Marcia could stop her, the redhead dove to the floor and retrieved a large cardboard box from under the bed. She threw off the lid, revealing the contents inside. Cherry gasped.

It'd gotten worse since she last saw Marcia. Three beer bottles were lined up in the box and if Cherry rummaged through every hiding place in the room, she knew she'd find at least a dozen total. A bag of pills was stowed under one bottle and bags of food had been thrown in the box, some older than others.

"Marcia," Cherry's voice shook. "I didn't know it had gotten this bad."

"Well, you weren't here, were you?" Marcia sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "Therefore, you wouldn't know, would you?"

"Marcia, you need help. This has gotten out of control."

"No!" Marcia's voice cracked. "I. Don't. Need. Any. Bloody. Help!"

Cherry looked at her friend, really looked at her, and nearly cried.

A year ago, she hadn't been able to tell Aimee and Marcia apart solely by looks, but now, Marcia appeared to be a skeleton with bones too prominent. Her cheeks were sunken in and dark bags marred the skin under her eyes. Even her clothes, which she'd bought only a few weeks ago, hung off of her. How had no one noticed?

"Please, Marcia, let me help you," Cherry begged.

"Get out."

"Marcia-"

"GET OUT, CHERRY!"

Cherry, giving up for now, left and ran all the way home, where she broke down in her parents' arms. When had life gotten so complicated?

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Brown household, Aimee warily approached her sister's bedroom door when she heard the crying and the screaming. She gently nudged it open.

Marcia was lying on the floor, her make up smeared from crying. A beer bottle was clenched in her hand and she was chugging it like there was no tomorrow.

"Marcia," she whispered.

Marcia looked up, her eyes rimmed red. "Get the fuck out of my room, Aimee."

"Marcia-"

"Please, Aimee, get out!"

Aimee slammed the door and heard glass shattering as the empty beer bottle made contact with the wood, right where her head had been a mere moment ago.

Aimee sunk to the floor in tears.

That monster in there was not her sister. That was the alcohol, the eating disorder, the drugs... but it wasn't Marcia.

What happened to the girls that used to take dance classes together? Used to put on plays and concerts for their once caring parents?

What had happened to their family?

* * *

As Aimee broke down outside the door, Marcia fumbled for her phone and dialed a number.

"Hey, Marcia, what's up?" A voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, Michael. We have a new victim."

"Who is it?" She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Ponyboy Curtis."

* * *

That night, Ponyboy was awoken by the chirp of his cell phone on his nightstand and glanced over at Sodapop to make sure he was still asleep. He was.

Pony grabbed the phone and read the new text message from an unknown number.

' _What's up, freak? Why don't you just go kill yourself? It's not like anyone would care.'_

Ponyboy frowned. Didn't people have better things to do than text him insults in the middle of the night?

He turned off the ringer on the phone and drifted back off to sleep.

Because it was just that, right? One bully that liked to put people down. Ponyboy had plenty of experience with those; it hardly affected him anymore.

Little did he know, he'd be facing absolute hell over the next few months.

* * *

"Michael, I don't think this is a good idea. I mean, have you seen the kid's older brother? He could kick our heads in!"

"Come on, Luke! Don't be such a wuss! Anyway, so we start tomorrow. Brandon?"

"I use technology to break him."

"Luke?"

"I set the pranks."

"Carlos?"

"You and I are physical."

"Yes. Chloe, what about you and your girls?"

"We're social."

"And we're all verbal."

"Man," Luke mumbled, "Marcia owes us big time for this."

These are his friends-his only friends. He can't lose them, so if that means bullying a kid, he'll do it if his friends will continue to have his back.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a little bit bad for Ponyboy Curtis.

* * *

 _so, Marcia's going to bully Ponyboy to get back at Soda, Cherry, Aimee, etc. What can come of this?_

 _Now, I have just finished one of my other stories, Prophet (if you really like Outsiders, you should check that out), and I have a rule that when I finish a story, I post a new one in its place. I have the summaries on my profile and there should be a poll for it, but it hasn't worked so far. If the poll doesn't show up, just review which story you'd like to see posted on another one of my stories. Thanks!_


	11. Happy Halloween Part 1

_I realize Halloween was yesterday, but this is my Halloween special for all of you! there will be two parts to this, so enjoy! ALSO, this is set a few weeks after the previous chapter, so don't be confused by the sudden change in topic._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

Aimee loved Halloween. It was the one day of the year where she could be anything-anyone- but herself. It was the one day a year that she could pretend to be someone other than Aimee Brown, the child from a dysfunctional family with a sister that was bordering on insane.

Soda loved Halloween. First of all, it was the one day a year he could scare little kids without Darry scolding him! Second of all, he didn't have to be just a Greaser with dead parents and a scarred kid brother. He could be Superman; he could be a mass murderer; he could be a Disney character; he could be anything he wanted.

This year was the first year he would be attending the Will Rogers High School Halloween Ball. As a student, he had always thought it was stupid, but now, he had a reason to go. Aimee would be his date.

Soda sighed as he examined his costume in the mirror. He was wearing a midevil style outfit, although he'd touched it up to be more modern. It was a simple pair of jeans and a button up pale blue shirt with a matching blue hat that held a feather. He looked like a mix of midevil times, the fourties, and the present, if you asked him. Meanwhile, he'd combed his hair and gelled it to look shiner than usual and a scroll was clipped to his belt.

"Haha!" Steve laughed as he stepped into the room. "Nice costume, dude. What are you anyway? A Musketeer?"

"I am Romeo," Soda joked, using a very bad imitation of his character. "What are you?"

Steve was dressed in black, red, and gold robes with a lion emblazoned on the chest. He wore wire rimmed glasses and had a lightning bolt sketched on his forehead in green pen. His hair was messier than usual.

"I'm Harry Potter."

"Okay, I'm just as much of a fan as the next guy, but... why?"

"I made a bet with Two Bit."

"What possessed you to do that?"

"I was wasted, and the one time Two Bit was smart, he made a drunken me make that bet with him and recorded me."

"Ha!" Soda chuckled. "You got outsmarted by Two Bit!"

"Hey, I can be smart if I wanna be!" The said joker stepped into the room dressed as... the Joker.

His face was painted white and he'd borrowed his mom's lipstick to make his lips and the surrounding skin bright red. He'd used eyeliner to make his eyes look sunken in and creepy. He dawned the Joker's outfit and wielded a plastic knife wrapped in tape.

"Why is your knife wrapped in tape? And did the Joker even carry a knife?" Soda asked him.

Two Bit shrugged. "I don't know; I haven't seen the movie in years, but I made a deal with Dally. And my mom told me that I could not go out in public pointing this at people, so she wrapped it in tape."

"What about your switchblade?" Steve asked.

Two Bit shrugged before pointing his finger at them and saying in a good imitation of his mom. "Keith Matthews, that blade is for self defense only, not Halloween costumes."

Soda opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Dally calling from the living room. "Hey, I agreed to go to this thing, so I will not be late. Now, come on, you three!"

The trio stepped out of Soda's room to face the others.

Dally was dressed as some kind of punk rock star with black make up and biker clothing. He wore a leather jacket over a white shirt with HOOD written in blood red with ripped jeans and punk boots. A sticker had been pasted on his forehead to look like an piercing (how much you wanna bet Johnny stuck that on there while Dally was napping?).

And Johnny and Ponyboy...

"Johnny, Pony, that is just pathetic," Soda deadpanned.

The two of them were wearing blue jeans with T-shirts labeled Thing 1 and Thing 2.

"Hey," Pony protested. "We didn't ask to go to this thing."

"He's got a point," Steve said. "We're only going to see how much of a spectacle you and Aimee are gonna make."

"What makes you think we'll be making a spectacle?"

"You're a Curtis."

"...Good point."

"Come on, guys!" Dally cheered before running out the door and flipping over the fence.

"He's one for the special affects, isn't he?" Two Bit muttered.

Steve stared at Two Bit. "Have you met Dally?"

Two Bit shrugged before taking a swig of beer and following Dally, doing a cartwheel across the yard.

Steve shrugged. "What the heck?" He ran out the door, doing a back flip off of the steps.

Pony and Johnny simply walked outside (you know, like normal people) while Soda grabbed two small packages off of the nearby table and followed them.

* * *

The school was bustling with kids and parents, all dressed in costumes varying from bloody monstrous gouls to princesses and fairy tale characters. All in all, the gang, except for Dally, who everyone gave a wide berth, fit in perfectly.

"Soda!" A beautiful voice, tinkling like a soft bell, called.

Aimee Brown was hot. Honest to God beautiful. Soda thought she should have dressed as Aphrodite because it would have been more fitting for her beauty.

She wore a blue dress with white cuffs and golden trim. A matching barrette was seated atop her long brown hair, which was pulled over her shoulders. Her make up had been put on light, just enough to add some color to her pale skin but not enough to go overboard. She was perfect.

Soda walked over to her and opened one of the small plastic boxes. He pulled out a rose made out of orange and black tissue paper and used the safety pin to clip it onto her costume.

"Happy Halloween, Aimee," he whispered, kissing her.

A slow song began to play and the DJ called, "This is for all of our prince charmings. Grab your princess and lead her on the dance floor for a Halloween romance."

"That's our cue," Soda said, grinning and taking Aimee by the hand.

Then, Romeo and Juliet danced the night away.

* * *

 _If you haven't guessed already, Romeo and Juliet will be a very important part of this story, along with music, which will_ _come in later._

 _The part about Ponyboy getting bullied will come in after next chapter and there will be some brotherly fluff later on. I'm trying to make the story romantic when it comes to Soda and Aimee's relationship, but I've never had a boyfriend, so I have no idea what it's like to be in love._

 _Until next time: Happy Halloween... Happy LATE Halloween! sorry._


	12. Happy Halloween Part 2

_Sorry for the delay, but I had three tests this week; a social studies test, an English vocabulary sst, and a Spanish exam on top of a book report, an English project, and a Spanish project. yeah, I've been pretty much swamped and I'm back! sorry the chapter isn't very long, but I promise to make it longer next chapter._

* * *

Ponyboy should've known better than to wander away from the party, but he was bored and it was too loud for his liking, so he went for a walk. Strolling through the court yard in the front of the school, he thought of Soda and Aimee.

He loved the idea of his brother being happy, and Aimee was fantastic, but… deep down, he felt jealous. After all, he'd barely seen Soda since he started dating Aimee, and he missed the big brother that used to take time out of his day just to hang out with his kid brother. The change left him with a sick feeling in his belly, like when Mom and Dad died… as if he'd lost a friend.

And that's what he couldn't figure out. Soda wasn't lost; he was just busy. Why did he feel the ugly green monster strike every time he saw Soda holding hands with Aimee Brown?

"Why, if it isn't the horse kid," a taunting voice drawled from behind him, and the blonde spun to face a collection of Socs.

There were eight of them, four guys and four girls, and none of them looked alike. The group was split down the middle between girls and boys, and in the lead of the boy's group was a tall teen with brown hair, blue eyes, and a green madris shirt. Behind him were two boys, one with black hair, the other with brown, and both had brown eyes, although the one with brown hair had a darker shade of brown. And in the back, as though he were trying to hide, was a blonde kid, his body thin but not so as to appear like a stick. His skin was a pale and his eyes were sky blue. A couple of freckles dotted his cheekbones. His eyes were twitching, nervously.

In the lead of the girls, a pretty girl with long blonde curls and green eyes smirked. She wore a pink skirt and a white blouse, the top three buttons undone. Behind her were three others. One had dark skin and eyes of chocolate with her hair curled neatly. She wore a green blouse and a black skirt, wobbling on high heels. And next, there was a girl with long, straight brown hair and blue eyes; she wore a blue blouse with a white skirt. Finally, a beautiful Asian girl stood behind them wearing a white blouse and a pink skirt.

"Who are you?" Ponyboy demanded.

The lead girl giggled. "You really don't know?"

Ponyboy shook his head. He knew the girl went to his school, but he didn't even know the names of his classmates, much less an older girl.

"Oh, honey," she said, her voice dripping with false kindness. "We're your worst nightmare."

And that's when Ponyboy started to run. He was no coward, but after Bob, he knew when to run away.

Unfortunately, the lead boy anticipated this as he grabbed the back of Ponyboy's shirt. " You're not going anywhere, Greaser."

He was in really deep shit.

* * *

Soda was having a blast, dancing with his Juliet while the small container in his pocket weighed down, reminding him of how special this night really was.

"Aimee?" he whispered. "Could we talk? Privately?"

She grinned. "Sure."

The couple walked outside, hiding in the shadows of the building.

"Aimee," Soda began, "When I entered high school, my parents gave me something, and they told me to give it to my one true love. I considered giving it to Sandy, but it didn't feel right, so I decided to wait. And I'm glad I did."

Slowly, he withdrew the object from his pocket and opened the tiny box. "My dad gave one to my mom when they were in high school. It's basically just a way to say that I love you and I'll never stop loving you."

"Oh, Soda," Aimee breathed. Cautiously, she pulled the necklace from the container and allowed him to put it around her neck. "How do I look?"

The necklace wasn't much, just a simple heart with I Trust You scribbled on the back and I Love You inscribed on the front. But his dad told him that those two statements meant the world to someone.

"Beautiful… as usual."

They kissed, passionately.

"Michael, be careful you don't east to kill him!" a male voice suddenly interrupted them from around the corner.

"I'm not kill him, Luke! Calm down!" another male voice snapped.

"Get off of me," a pained voice mumbled with all the venom the person could muster.

Soda and Aimee exchanged looks. "Ponyboy," they said in unison.

And they broke into a run.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading! review and keep your eye out for the next chapter. I pray I won't disappoint with that chapter! Bye!_


	13. Happy Halloween Part 3

_WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ATTEMPT, LANGUAGE_

 **Disclaimer: I own zip... zero... nada... etc., etc.**

* * *

Soda rounded the corner, Aimee in tow, and his eyes went from a lively brown to pitch black in a moment.

"Get the fuck away from him!" He screeched, Aimee jumping slightly at her boyfriend's more than angry voice. Not that she didn't expect it; no one messed with Sodapop Curtis's little brother and got away with it.

While Soda lunged at the offenders and started fighting them, Aimee crept over to sit beside Ponyboy. She wasn't worried about the fight; she knew Soda could hold his own, and after he screeched like a banshee, she knew the gang couldn't be far.

Ponyboy looked awful, his face bruised and bloody and his clothes torn to shreds. One of his eyes were swollen shut, and his lip was fat and split. Someone's rings had cut into the side of his face, right along his cheekbone and it had cut deep, making blood ooze down his skin in a waterfall. Bruises marred his wrists and shoulders from being held down. And that was only what she could see; she didn't even want to imagine the injuries that lied beneath his clothes.

She vaguely heard the gangs' whoops and hollers as they joined the fight, but she was too preoccupied to turn and see what was going on. She ripped a corner off of her dress-about the size of her hand, maybe a little bigger- and wet it with her tongue before starting to mop up some of the blood coating Pony's face.

Aimee was so busy with trying to help the scrawny Greaser that she didn't notice that the fighting had stopped until Darry and Soda knelt beside her, the gang standing a little bit away from Ponyboy to give them space.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Johnny asked, hesitantly. "He looks real bad."

Aimee nodded. "He'll be alright eventually, but we need to start healing him or I don't know what will happen."

Darry nodded and lifted Ponyboy into his arms before they started for Two Bit's car and his truck just down the road.

"I still can't believe someone would do that to a kid- a hero," Dally hissed, angrily, as he helped to support Soda, who had experienced quite the kick to the ribs.

"Tell me about it," Soda growled, wincing as he leaned more heavily on Dally and Steve. "I mean, he saves a dozen kids from a fire, and this is the way the world thanks him- by abusing him even more?"

Johnny nodded. "Man, he looked almost as bad as I did," he mumbled as he rubbed a finger over his scar.

They arrived at the cars, Two Bit, Steve, Dally, and Johnny riding in Two Bit's car while the others rode in Darry's truck.

Soda looked ready to cry as he rubbed some blood from Ponyboy's face, revealing hideous bruises beneath the sheet of crimson.

"Oh, Pony," he whispered, holding his kid brother close to him. "I'm so, so sorry."

"What you sorry for?" Pony slurred, wincing as he jostled his ribs.

"I should've been there," Soda muttered.

"You can't be everywhere at once, can you?" Pony told him.

"He's right, Soda," Aimee agreed. "You can't be with Pony all the time. Those kids are just violent jerks, and it's in no way your fault."

Pony smiled, slightly. "Wise girl. She's a keeper, Soda."

Soda blushed, and he looked up to see that Aimee hadn't heard Pony's words.

He smiled at his kid brother. "She sure is, Pony."

* * *

Ponyboy was in pain. His entire body ached from his ribs to the top of his head, both throbbing painfully. He could feel something dry and sticky clinging to his skin, particularly his face, and he winced as someone dabbed a wet cloth to his forehead.

"Ow," he muttered.

"Yeah," Aimee's voice agreed, comfortingly. "There's quite a cut there. Steve just ran down to the store to get some ointment for it."

"Thanks, Aimee," he told her. "How's Soda holding up? He didn't look too good."

"Neither do you," she pointed out with a giggle. "And Soda's fine; a little bruised up, but he'll be fine with a lot of rest."

"You gonna be a doctor?" Pony asked. "How do you know so much about medicine?"

Aimee shrugged. "Well, when I was younger, Marcia and I were always falling off bikes, tripping on the sidewalk, and all that clumsy toddler jazz. I guess we were born clumsy, but anyway, our parents were always working, so I learned to bandage us up."

"Well, you have a talent for it. Maybe you should be a nurse," Ponyboy suggested.

Aimee laughed. "Maybe. I haven't really thought about it, but it's possible. After all, all I want to do is get out of my house."

"Family issues?" Pony guessed.

Aimee nodded. "Once," she began after a moment of hesitant silence, "I went on an overnight field trip with my school, and my teacher asked me if I missed my parents. I told her how can I miss someone that was never there."

Ponyboy nodded. "You know, Darry and I didn't always get along. I'm sure you heard about the time I ran away, but I'm sure you don't know the whole story."

"What happened?"

"Darry was stressed from working, and when I came home late one night after falling asleep in the lot, he was pissed. He was scared to call the cops because they may take us away, but he didn't want to go on not knowing where I was or what had happened to me. When I came home, he was ready to murder me. Long story short: he yelled at me, I yelled back, Soda tried to break us up, he yelled at Soda, I yelled at Darry, and he slapped me."

Aimee stopped cleaning the blood from his face. Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been that.

"Were things really that bad?" She asked.

Ponyboy shrugged. "It was hard to get along. Mom and Dad were gone; Darry was stressed to the point of his hair falling out; I walked around like a zombie. Poor Soda was stuck in the middle. Things are better now, though, so when times get tough, just know that you're not alone. If Johnny hadn't been by my side, I probably would've... you know."

After looking over her shoulder to ensure no one was looking, he put a finger gun to his head and mimicked pulling the trigger.

She nodded, although her eyes displayed shock. "I've contemplated that, never done it, but I thought about it a lot. Marcia tried to kill herself when she was thirteen, took some pills. She tried to slit her wrists, tried to remove her IV or her nutrients tube whenever she was in the hospital after an attempt. It was real bad."

Ponyboy nodded before he cracked a weak smile that possessed no humor. "Our lives suck, but it could be worse. I could be Johnny, getting abused, or Steve, getting kicked out of the house once a week. I could be Dally with no strict home. I guess that's why I never did it because things can always be worse."

Aimee laughed, slightly. "You're too wise for a fourteen year old."

Ponyboy looked her in the eye, dead serious. "It's not your age that makes you wise or naive; it's your experiences. I've seen too much for fourteen years; I had to grow up fast, but if I could go back and change it, I don't think I would."

Aimee nodded, but before she could say a word, Soda opened the door.

"Ponyboy!" He shouted, quite literally tackling Ponyboy in a hug and almost knocking him off the couch. "Thank goodness you're awake!"

"Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"You're choking me."

"Oh, sorry!" Soda quickly detached himself from his little brother. "I'm just glad that you're alright."

"You had us worried there for a second," Darry agreed from the doorway.

"I'm fine, guys. Getting jumped is nothing new," Ponyboy chuckled.

"Yeah, but if those good for nothing, no good son of a-" Dally then proceeded to rattle off every insult in the book.

"Lay a hand on you again," Johnny interrupted Dally.

"We'll kill 'em," Two Bit finished.

"Thanks, guys," Ponyboy said.

But little did they know, this was far from over.

* * *

 _some Aimee and Ponyboy bonding and a little brotherly fluff! sorry for the late update, and for those of you that are reading any of my other stories, I'm working on updating. bye!_


	14. Meeting the Parents

_I am so sorry for the long awaited update, but I'_ _m back and personally, this is one of my favorite chapters!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

"Come on, Aimee!" Soda begged.

"Soda, you... you don't understand. My parents don't like Greasers, or me for hanging out with them."

"Aimee, we've been dating for months, and I still haven't met your parents. I'll dress up real nicely; we'll pick a night your sister's out of the house, and your parents will never know I'm a Greaser."

Aimee sighed. "I guess it's worth a shot, but dressing nicely for my parents means dressing like a Soc. I can ask Randy to lend you something; you two are about the same size."

"Great. What night?"

"Well, Marcia goes out partying every Saturday, so maybe this Saturday, six o'clock? I'll tell my parents."

"Thank you!" Soda swept Aimee into his arms, swinging her around.

"I guess you quite literally swept me off my feet," she giggled.

"Nah, I'd need a broom for that," Soda said, casually.

"Only you, Soda. Only you."

"Only you, Aimee. Only you."

The two stared at each other before laughing.

* * *

Three nights later, Soda was dressed in a pale blue shirt that buttoned up with a pair of crisp blue pants that felt weird to walk around in. His shoes were a spotless pair of trainers that used to belong to Darry before they were given to him and he always forget to wear them. His hair was grease free, but he'd brushed it until it was flat as a board before putting it in a low ponytail.

Somebody whistled from behind him. "Soda the Soc."

"No. Just no, Steve."

"Dude, what's with the get up?"

"Two Bit, I told you all three nights ago. I'm going to Aimee's. This 'get up' is to impress her parents."

"How much you wanna bet they're bastards, like their daughter?"

"You better be talking about Marcia."

"Of course. Aimee's a sweetheart, but Marcia... she's the devil in pretty girl form."

"Geesh, Two Bit, where'd that came from?"

He shrugged. "My mouth?"

"Idiot."

Two Bit turned to Steve with that challenging look in his eye before tackling the boy and engaging in a full out wrestling match.

"You two better not break anything," Darry said, stepping over their legs.

"Holler Uncle!"

"Never!"

"Well, look at my kid brother, going to meet his girlfriend's parents," Darry chuckled. "You clean up nicely."

"Thanks, Dar."

"Ow, that was my foot!"

"Sorry, Pony!"

"Ouch, my shin! "

"Sorry, Johnny!"

"Who says shin anymore?"

The brothers laughed before Soda pulled the comb through his hair one last time for good luck.

"Don't tell me you brushed your hair one hundred times," Darry snickered.

"Shush up, bro. I've got better hair than you."

"Oh, I beg to differ."

Suddenly, Ponyboy and Johnny stumbled in, falling over each other snd landing in a heap on the floor.

When Soda and Darry turned to them with questioning glances, they simply huffed, "Animals."

"Soda?"

"Yeah, Darry?"

"Get out of here while you can."

"Agreed. Peace, people!" He shouted, running out of the room, doing a cartwheel in the air over the wrestling boys, and sprinting out the door.

"He's always one for flair, isn't he?" Darry said.

Ponyboy turned to him in disbelief. "You're just now figuring that out?"

* * *

A little bit later, Soda was arriving at the doorstep to the Browns' home and knocking lightly on the door.

The door was opened by a stocky man with brown hair like Aimee's and ice cold blue eyes. He was tan with a bit of a mustache on his upper lip, and he was wearing a white button up shirt with blue jeans and dress shoes.

What a weird combination, Soda thought before he stuck out his hand.

"I'm Sodapop Curtis. How do you do?"

The man shook his hand. His grip was firm and strong and slightly intimidating.

"I'm fine. My name is Brad Brown; call me Mr. Brown or sir. Nothing else. Do you hear me, _Sodapop_?" He put emphasis on Soda's name, showing his less than approving opinion of it.

"Yes, sir."

"Come in. Hang up your jacket on that coat rack and sit at the table beside Aimee."

"Yes, sir."

Woah, strict dude, Soda thought as he hung up his coat.

He walked into the dining room and seated himself beside his girlfriend, who was dressed in a plain purple, short sleeved dress and silver flats. Her hair was pulled back in a braid.

She smiled at him, but she said nothing as her father seated himself.

Aimee's mother was there, and she looked a lot like Aimee with brown curly hair and chocolate brown eyes, but she looked much more defeated than Aimee. Like life had beaten her down hard. She wore a white skirt and a pale orange shirt. Her expression was devoid of any emotion.

There was one empty seat across from them. Soda assumed that was where Marcia sat every night. This meant that he and Aimee sat beside each other with Mr. Brown closest to the door and beside Soda, leaving Mrs. Brown beside Aimee.

Mr. Brown bowed his head, clasping his hands, and the rest of them followed.

"Dear Lord, we thank you for this food we have been blessed with, alongside a roof over our heads and the clothes on our back. We thank you for the presence of Sodapop Curtis, and we pray you guide him as you have guided us."

What does that mean? Soda thought, not sure whether he should be offended or not.

"I'm afraid my daughter cannot be here with us tonight, for she is studying and behind the good girl you have made her to be. Guide us, Lord, and bless us with your strong hand. Amen."

"Amen," they chorused.

"Sarah, dinner," Mr. Brown said, although it sounded like a command.

Mrs. Brown nodded before exiting the room to fetch the food.

"Sodapop," Mr. Brown said, "Aimee tells me you're a drop out. Do you work?"

"Yes, sir, I work at the DX gasoline station full time," Soda told him, politely.

"What of your parents?"

"They passed away sir in an auto wreck six months ago."

"Who do you live with?"

"My twenty two year old brother, Darryl, is my guardian. I also have a fourteen year old brother named Ponyboy."

"No wonder you're a drop out, being raised by a twenty two year old," Mr. Brown rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Soda snapped.

"Dad!" Aimee exclaimed at the same time.

"I also know about your brother and that little murderous friend of his! You're just a family of mistakes, aren't you?"

"Dad, that is enough! Just because he doesn't meet you _standards_ ," she spat the word standards like it was the worst possible thing, "doesn't mean you should insult him."

"Shut your mouth, Aimee," Mr. Brown said, calmly.

"Don't talk to her like that!" Soda roared. "Aimee, I'm sorry, but I'm leaving before I do something I regret."

He threw his chair back and stormed out.

"Soda, wait!" Aimee shouted before glaring at her parents. "I'll be home when I've calmed down. Not that you bastards care."

She followed Soda out the door.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, timidly, from the doorway.

"It will just be us two dining tonight, Sarah. Apparently, the Lord has given up on leading that Curtis boy."

* * *

"Soda, I am so sorry!"

"It's not your fault, Aimee."

"Still. Please, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Soda smiled. "Aimee Brown, how would you like to meet my parents?"

* * *

 _And you'll find out what that means next chapter! Also, the religious views in this chapter are purely Mr. Brown's, so I don't mean to insult anyone. That's just who Mr. Brown is._

 _Until next time!_


	15. Meet My Mom and Dad

_I've returned. THERE IS SOME VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER AT THE END; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!_

 _WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, A BISEXUAL CHARACTER, LANGUAGE_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Soda drove Aimee in Darry's truck to an old cemetery on the outskirts of town, opening her door with a sad smile on his face.

"Ready to meet my mom and dad?"

She smiled. "Of course."

He lead her to two graves in the center of the cemetery, both polished with fresh flowers left on their grave: carnations for Mom and blue roses for Dad.

"Ponyboy must have left them here; he comes here when he's upset, which after what happened has become quite often," Soda told her. "There's actually a funny story behind the flower choice.

"You see, when my dad showed up to take my mom to the prom, he brought her a carnation, but my mom was mad that the guy brought the girl something, but the girls never bought the guys something. To most people that may just be chivalry, but to my mom, it was stereotypes. So she bought him a blue rose; they quickly became known as the Flower Couple."

"That's so sweet," Aimee told him. "Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis."

"They would've wanted you to call them Darryl and Susan; neither one of them like formalities. My dad said it sapped the creativity and fun out of life when you tried to be formal to everybody. He used to say strangers were just friends you haven't met yet." Soda dissolved into tears.

"Shh, Soda, it's okay. They'd be proud of you," Aimee whispered. "They are proud of you."

"What is there to be proud of?" He sobbed. "I'm a high school drop out, a no good hood. I work at a gas station. My dad's greatest wish was for all of us to go to college, get degrees, get good jobs, get out of this freaking town for good. I failed him, Aimee. I failed my dad."

"No, you didn't. You dropped out of school, but now you're helping Darry pay the bills. You're a great brother, a fantastic friend, and a wonderful boyfriend. You're creative and fun and outgoing and you enjoy life. And while you and Darry may not go to college-or at least not now- you're helping Ponyboy get there. Your brother has a shot at getting out of this town because you're a good role model for him. And if your dad isn't proud of that, well, it's not worth trying to make him proud because you are one of the best people I know. I love you, Soda."

"I love you, too, Aimee," he whispered. "Thanks." He turned back to the graves. "Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend, Aimee Brown; she's modest and kind and encouraging. I don't know what I'd do without her."

"And I don't know what I'd do without you."

Then, Aimee kissed him and fireworks went off in Soda's brain because this kiss wasn't like their others. This kiss was one of pure love and affection; a kiss that was needed by both parties because they needed love. Love for love in return.

In short terms, it was amazing.

Soda turned back to the graves after the kiss ended.

"You're gonna like her. I know you will."

* * *

"Susan, Susan!"

"Darryl, Darryl!"

"Look at that girl! I told you she was the one!"

"Well, you know me. No one's ever good enough for my boys."

Darryl rolled his eyes. "I love you, but you gotta let it go about that Sandy chick."

"Don't use her name. We only call her a bitch because that's all she is!"

"Alright, Soda's love life over. We need to get Darry a girlfriend."

"Good luck with that. We're dead; it's gonna be kind of hard to do anything."

"Can we at least get Ponyboy to act on that Michael kid?"

"How did you know he liked him?"

"I'm not as dumb as I make myself out to be. It was still a little surprising when I found out he was bi."

"I've known for a while. Ever since he almost kissed Johnny at that party."

"Does he still have a crush on that Johnny kid?"

"Now, that I don't know. Our youngest son is very complicated."

Darryl laughed. "All of our sons are complicated, honey."

"Got that right," Susan giggled.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ponyboy should've known he was screwed when the car started tailing him.

He'd just gone down the street to the DX to pick up some cigarettes and some candy for the guys since they eat like pigs.

He should've recognized it, but the memory was just out of reach and it made his brain itch with the need to remember.

Nonetheless, the car was right behind him, going far too slow for the car to be going anywhere. The car sped up, and so did Ponyboy.

The car sped up more; Pony's fast walk became a jog. He was beyond caring if running made him look like a coward; after Halloween, he wasn't taking any chances.

The car sped up, and Ponyboy cut between two buildings, taking the long way to house, but the undoubtedly safer route.

Apparently, this route wasn't safer at all. Whoever was in the car knew their way around, and they sure as hell knew how to speed.

Ponyboy came out the other side of the alley, and the car was right there waiting for him, and the eight kids from Halloween were standing there (how did they even fit in that car?).

"Hello, horse kid, too bad we got interrupted a few nights ago," the male leader said. "We're here to make up for the lost time."

"Well, you're not going to," Pony growled, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Because my brother works right down the street, and the entire gang is with him."

That was mostly a lie. Soda did work right down the street, but he'd gotten off hours ago, and the guys were all back at the house. But the Socs didn't need to know that.

"Well, one," the female leader smirked, "we're not scared of your brother or those pesky no good hoods you call friends. And two, your brother gets off at four thirty. We know the guy that takes the next shift."

Fuck.

One last choice: run.

Ponyboy kicked the male leader in the shin and ran like hell while they were all trying to get over their shock.

"What the hell are you guys just standing around for?" One of them yelled. "Grab him."

Hands grabbed the back of his shirt, and Ponyboy was kind of impressed. Catching up to him was not easy, him being a runner and all.

Fists were flying; feet were kicking. It was only a matter of time before bones began breaking.

Ponyboy shot his knee into the gut of the closest guy and tried to get up before he was once again pinned with a blade at his throat.

"Try that again, and I'll slit it."

A fist was thrown into his nose; somebody actually burned him with their cigarette. And all the while, the blade was one slip away from ending the life of Ponyboy Curtis.

"Hey, what the hell?! Get away from him!"

The Socs were leaping off of him while some guy cursed as they drove off.

"We'll get him later. Right now, the kid needs us more."

"Ponyboy," a voice said. "Ponyboy, stay awake."

And Ponyboy tried, but as soon as he was lifted off the ground, the world went black.

* * *

 _Review!_


	16. Little Brothers

_Hello, I'm back, and this chapter does include quite a lot of violence and some blood... so you have been warned._

 _WARNINGS: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, BRIEF MENTIONS OF PROSTITUTION TOWARDS THE END_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

Of course, the romantic moment had to be ruined when Soda's phone began to ring.

Bring! Bring!

"Hang on, Aimee," he told her, taking out his flip phone. "It's Steve."

He flipped it open and answered the call.

"Steve, could you call back later? I'm kind of in the middle of a date, and-"

"I don't care, Soda! You need to get home now!"

Soda paused. Steve sounded so frantic, so worried, so fearful. It was like he was screaming 'somebody's dying here!' but it was even worse. Steve sounded... almost guilty... like whatever had happened was his fault. Steve Randall never regretted anything; it was just something he didn't do. The change scared Soda to death.

"Steve, what's wrong?" He demanded. Aimee perked up at his urgent tone of voice as she slipped her hand into his and tried to listen in on the phone call (his phone didn't have a speaker button).

"Soda, it's horrible. There's so much blood, and-and he's bruised and bloody and burned. He's unconscious, Soda, but he keeps muttering your name. He sounds hysterical, Soda; you need to get here now!"

"Who, Steve?"

"Ponyboy."

That word got Soda moving. Dragging Aimee to the truck, he hopped in and practically threw the vehicle onto the main road. He was nearly ten miles over the speed limit, and that number was climbing, but he didn't care; his little brother needed him.

Not even fifteen minutes later, the couple was peeling into the driveway and leaping out of the truck and into the house.

The house was in chaos. Two Bit was rifling through cabinets, pulling out towels, napkins, bandaids, medicines, and everything in between. Steve, meanwhile, was pacing near the door, holding a bloody towel while Dally stood by the couch, holding something down. Darry was working hurriedly with some first aid supplies; Johnny was talking to the thing- more accurately, person- on the sofa.

Soda shoved past them all to get a look at the person.

It was Ponyboy, not that he looked like him at the moment, but Soda would recognize his little brother anywhere.

His blonde hair was highlighted with crimson blood, and it was plastered to his forehead by sweat and the same sticky substance that dyed the yellow color red. Pale and sickly, he looked like an incredibly ill patient that Soda had seen at they hospital. Bruises painted his skin blue and black and purple, mingling with scarlet that poured from cuts and scrapes. Ugly cigarette burns lined his forearms, shoulders, and collar bone. It was a horror movie come true for Soda.

"Pony," he whispered, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.

He knelt beside Darry, brushing a strand of hair from Ponyboy's face, sobbing when he saw the horrifying cut that poured buckets of blood down the side of Ponyboy's face. Someone had really tried to kick his head in.

"Pony, baby..."

"Sooodaa," he slurred. "'Uurts soo bad."

"I know, baby, but Darry's gonna fix you up, and you'll be good as new. Oh, Pony, who did this to you?"

"Peeople... from the... Hallow...een daance," Ponyboy spat out blood, tears falling down his face. "It 'urts, Soda. P-Please, m-make it st-stop!"

"I know it hurts, baby. We're gonna make it better. Just go to sleep, and you'll be all better in the morning," Soda promised, his voice shaking.

Pony nodded, drifting back into a sea of blackness. Honestly, that was the best place for him right now...

Soda looked up. "What. The hell. Happened?!"

Steve answered, "Well, Pony went down to the DX to get some cancer sticks, b-but he was gone for ten minutes when it should've taken him five. We waited another five minutes before Two Bit and I went to find him; we weren't really worried at first. But then, we heard the screaming.

"It was horrible, Soda. I've never heard someone scream so much or so loudly. Two Bit and I found him getting beaten up; we screamed at the guys to leave him alone, and they hopped in a car and drove off. We would've gone after them, but Ponyboy needed us more."

Soda didn't miss how Steve referred to Ponyboy as Ponyboy or Pony instead of the kid or your kid brother. On a normal occasion, he would've jumped with joy because maybe the two could finally get along, but now wasn't the time.

"I should've been there," Soda whispered.

"Soda," Darry murmured. "You can't be there all the time."

"I know," he mumbled back. "But I was supposed to be home by now, and-"

"Soda," Steve stated, firmly. "You can't protect Pony all the time. This is our fault. Darry was doing the laundry, and we were supposed to be watching out for him; we were the ones that asked him to go get cigarettes instead of going ourselves. I'm sorry."

"Me, too, " Two Bit muttered. "Why do bad things always have to happen to good people?"

"Who knows, Two Bit?" Johnny responded.

Moments passed in a horrifying silence.

Finally, Aimee whispered, "I'm sorry that he's hurt, Soda, but he'll be okay. I know he will."

"Physically," he muttered, "but mentally? Johnny certainly wasn't after he was jumped, and that wasn't half as bad as this."

Johnny nodded. "But Pony's a lot stronger than I am, Soda."

"Nonsense," Pony murmured, his swollen eyes fluttering open as much as he could manage. "You're the strongest person I know, Johnny."

Johnny smiled, softly, grabbing Pony's hand in his. "Nonsense. You're way braver than I am. Hell, if you can keep your dreamy, sunset loving ways after everything that's happened, you are stronger than anyone else."

"Johnny's right," Aimee told him. "You're incredible, Pone." She placed a hand on his shoulder... gently, I assure you.

"As soon as you're better though, I am going to ground you," Darry said. "What have I told you about walking alone? As for you two," he pointed at Steve and Two Bit, "if you were my kids, I'd ground you for life. For now, though, as long as you're in my house, no Mickey, no beer until further notice."

"But Darry!" They groaned.

Darry gritted his teeth as he gestured sharply to Ponyboy, who motioned to his injuries.

"Oh, right... alright," Two Bit said, blushing.

"Okay," Steve grumbled.

"Now, let me see your ribs, Pony, I need to make sure they're not broken," Darry said, kneeling beside Ponyboy and with a lot of effort and pain, the pair were able to slip Pony's shirt off.

Dally backed out of the room, and they heard him run into the kitchen and puke into the sink. Two Bit dropped his beer bottle, shattering it on the hard wood floor. Steve dropped into an arm chair, gaping with a wide open mouth; Johnny fell away from the couch. Aimee's eyes widened; tears sprung to Soda's eyes. Darry took a shuddering breath.

"Is it really that bad?" Pony muttered.

Darry blinked away tears. "Yeah, baby, it's pretty bad, but I can heal it."

"We should get out of here. Give him some space," Steve suggested, but Soda was way ahead of him.

The blonde stormed out the front door, allowing it to bang home behind him. Aimee followed him.

"Soda," she began, but Soda didn't let her finish. He dove into her arms and cried into her shoulder.

"Shh, Soda, it's okay," she whispered.

"No, it's not. You saw it; how could somebody fucking do that?" Soda sobbed.

"I don't know, Sodapop. I just don't know."

They stood out there for what seemed like forever and a minute, but Soda never wanted it to end. He wanted to stand here with Aimee for the rest of eternity, holding her close and breathing in the lavender smell of her dark hair while her warm arms rubbed his back. He was safe here; no death, no pain, no fear, only love.

"Soda, Pony's asking for you," Johnny interrupted from the doorway.

Soda slowly slipped out of his girlfriend's arms and stepped into the house, kneeling beside the couch, where Ponyboy was flinching and whimpering.

"That really hurts, Soda," he whispered.

"Darry, what's going on?" He asked.

"When Ponyboy was beaten, he was beaten to the point where his body actually went numb, and now, that numbing is wearing off-" Darry began, running his hand through his hair like he did when he was worried.

"And the pain is setting in," Soda finished.

Darry nodded, somberly.

"That must really hurt," Soda mumbled.

He placed his shaking hand on Pony's most sickening injury, stiffling a sob as his little brother flinched and tried to shield away from the touch.

Carved into his lower stomach, right above his waist band, was a single word.

WORTHLESS.

* * *

Luke tapped his foot, nervously, while his friends chuckled cruelly around the table.

"Remember? 'Oh, please, don't hurt me. Please. Soda! Soda, where are you?'" Brandon laughed, doing a horrible impression of Ponyboy Curtis.

"I know! He was on the verge of begging for death," Michael agreed, speaking around his cigarette.

"Can you blame him? We beat him pretty bad," Carlos pointed out with a smirk. "Little weakling. Barely tried to fight back."

"Stop it," Luke commanded.

The guys and girls looked up from where they were talking or playing poker at the card table.

"What?" Chloe said in a snotty tone after a moment of silence.

"You heard me. Stop it. I can't believe you did that. That kid has been through hell in the past year what with his parents and Bob and trials, and you all just made it worse. What the hell do you have against him?" Luke snapped.

Michael shrugged. "Nothing, but Marcia-"

"To hell with Marcia! She's only doing this to get back at that sister of hers, which is no excuse, but you... none of you can even come up with an excuse! You're just doing this for fun. How fucking sick is that?"

"You better watch it, McCoy," Brandon muttered, dangerously.

"No! I will not 'watch it' anymore," Luke growled. "Look, the only reason I did this was because I didn't want to lose you as friends. But with friends like you, who needs enemies?"

"Get out," Stephanie, one of Chloe's friends, ordered.

"Gladly. See you in hell, bastards."

Luke McCoy promptly left and didn't look back.

When he was three blocks away, it started to rain, and he seriously considered going back. They were his only friends, after all; he couldn't just throw them away.

But like he said, with friends like that, who needs enemies, so he continued walking in the pouring rain.

He considered going home, but there was no one there, so what was the point? His mom was out sleeping with some guy for money again, and his dad... well, his dad hadn't come home in five years. What was the point in going back to that empty house?

So Luke walked around, not going anywhere, but never standing still. Before he knew it, he was in a place that he hadn't consciously decided to walk to, but maybe he'd intended to come here all along.

He sat on a swing in a park just down the street from his destination and took a shaky breath.

Was this really the best idea? I mean, they undoubtedly hated his guts. They'd probably kill him the minute he walked through the door!

But he had to apologize. It was time to stop running from his mistakes; they'd catch up with him eventually. They always did.

He couldn't stop hearing that kid's voice.

 _"Please, please stop! Please, it hurts! AHHH!"_

No one had even come to help him.

 _"Please... please... DARRY! SODA, PLEASE HELP ME! DALLY!"_

Why was the world so cruel?

Why did he have to be so cruel?

Why? Why? Why?!

After another moment of hesitation, he stood and approached the front door.

He shouldn't be asking why. Asking wasn't fixing. It was time for him to stop wondering why without doing something about it. That was his parents' job. Not his.

He knocked.

One of the boys that had come to the poor kid's rescue answered the door. He was a good head taller than Luke with slightly crooked teeth and hair shining with hair grease. His once white shirt was now scarlet with the kid's blood.

He took a deep breath and said, "I'm Luke McCoy. I need to speak with Ponyboy Curtis."

There was no turning back now.

* * *

 _I apologize for any mistakes, but like I've said in previous chapters, my auto correct sucks, so I just have to do my best!_

 _Anyway, over 2000 words! Celebration!_


	17. Luke McCoy

_Sorry for the long delay; I feel horrible about it, but the workload 2nd semester... killer._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing. Try again in... never. (Hey. A girl can dream)_**

 **WARNINGS: CHILD ABUSE AND BRIEF MENTIONS OF BULLYING**

* * *

 _Previously on All That Matters_

 _"I'm Luke McCoy. I need to speak with Ponyboy Curtis."_

 _There was no turning back now._

* * *

"Um, that may not be the best idea," the man said. "Why do you need to see him?"

"Just... please."

"Okay, but be warned. He got jumped by some guys, so he's pretty banged up. Two minutes, max."

The man let him inside the house. "I'm Steve. Ponyboy's right-"

But Luke had noticed Ponyboy lying on the couch, and Ponyboy had noticed Luke. In an effort to act tough, he sat up on his elbows and glared at Luke, but fear was shining in his eyes.

Luke, though, winced. Ponyboy was covered in bruises and deep cuts, some of which, still oozing blood. There was blood collecting on the hem of his T-shirt, where Michael had carved the word worthless. I won't go into too much detail, but lets just say that the teenager looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a garbage truck.

Luke turned to Steve, who seemed to get the message, and left to give the two boys some privacy.

"Ponyboy... I'm sorry," Luke said. "And I know that that doesn't make up for it, but... I really never wanted to hurt you."

"Then, why did you?" Ponyboy's voice was oddly flat, emotionless. Luke wished that he'd yell or scream or hit instead of that... that voice. Filled with disappointment and yet, lacking emotion. The kind of voice parents use when they're really angry.

Luke paused before sitting down in a chair next to the couch.

"You have to understand that I've never been popular. When I entered middle school, I was bullied nonstop until Michael, one of the guys, stood up for me. They became my new best friends.

"They used to be good people. Brandon couldn't have hurt a fly; Chloe was smart and shy and caring; Stephanie was so gentle; and Michael... well, Michael was like a story book superhero, always there to save the day.

"But then, we got to high school, and they started changing. Chloe was no longer a straight A student; she was getting C's. She hated everything, it seemed. Brandon was constantly hurting people. Stephanie... she was so obsessed with being pretty that she forgot to be kind. And Michael... Michael was now more the villain than the hero.

"But they were my best friends- my only friends. I'd have no one if it weren't for them. For a while, I-I put up with them being bullies because I felt that I... that I owed them for being my friends.

"But seeing them hurt you like that... it was too much. My parents are both hateful and bitter, and when I was younger, I promised myself that I would not forget myself, forget to be kind. I didn't want to be the dad that left or the mom that just didn't care.

"But... I did forget myself a little bit, but I'm starting to remember now. I can't expect you to forgive me, but... I just want you to know that I'm sorry."

Ponyboy was silent for so long that Luke knew he wouldn't reply, so he stood and approached the door. When his hand touched the doorknob, Ponyboy called him back.

"Thank you... for apologizing. And maybe some day, I can forgive you. Just not today."

Luke smiled; it was better than nothing. "Thank you, Ponyboy."

Luke left, but his troubles and accomplishments both followed him home.

Someday, everything would be okay. Things were looking up.

Until he got home.

"Lucas!" His mother cried.

Luke froze. Half the time, his mother didn't remember his name, much less deliberately call him; should he answer?

He went with yes, but he wishes that he didn't.

"Yeah?"

"Get in here!" She sounded angry.

Despite her obvious rage, Luke followed the order; after all, his mother had never actually hurt him. She'd neglected him, but his home was far from abusive.

Until now. Something smacked against his face as soon as he entered the living room, something leather that caused pain to flicker across his face. A belt.

And then, there was hitting. So much of it. Pain was flaring everywhere, and blood was dripping down his skin.

"Mom! Mom, stop, please!"

"You fucking bitch!" His mother shouted with a crazed look in her eye.

"MOM!"

And then, Luke spits out blood and he no longer has the strength to scream or fight back, so he just lays there.

He has so many regrets. He'll never see the day that Ponyboy forgives him; he'll never get to ask Michael and the others about what changed them from happy children to monsters. He'll never get to track down his father and ask him why he left like he's been planning.

On a smaller scale, he'll never have his first kiss; he'll never learn to drive or graduate or marry or have kids. He'll never even find out what he got on his math test last week.

And all because of her. His own mother.

For the first time, Luke feels like something isn't his fault. His dad leaving? That was his dad's choice, not his own; Luke was only ten, and no matter what he did (if he did anything at all), no parent should abandon their child like that. His friends changing? How could that have anything to do with him? He didn't tell them to change, and how can you stop something from happening if the person didn't want to stop? And his mom... she screwed up her life way before she had him.

Too bad he's realizing all of this on his death bed.

I'm sorry, he thought, not really sure who he's apologizing too.

Luke smiled. It was over; he'd had a good run, but everyone has to say goodbye at some point.

The world went black.

* * *

Ponyboy stared at the ceiling of his home, which was covered with stains from past thunderstorms where the rain leaked through or someone pulled a prank that quite literally blew up in their face.

No one had returned to the living room, so Ponyboy was left with his thoughts.

Luke McCoy, the blonde kid that always acted more like a nerd than a jock but was still in the popular group. No one ever understood it, and now, Ponyboy was the first.

The Populars weren't heartless; if they were, they would've dropped Luke years ago. But they knew that Luke would be targeted by bullies, so they stuck with him, standing up for him, even though being friends with Luke hurt their reputation more than once.

Chloe had once kicked a guy in the crotch for daring to call Luke a geek. The boy had been her boyfriend...

Michael punched a person for posting some insults about Luke on the Internet. He was suspended for three days...

Brandon had pushed a girl for calling Luke a homo, a fag, and several others Ponyboy didn't dare repeat when he refused to kiss her. Brandon's girlfriend broke up with him because she thought he was gay and dating Luke...

Stephanie once slapped Luke's mother when she stumbled in on his band concert and called him worthless in front of everybody. Luke's mother shoved her, and she hit her head on the floor, leading to a hospital visit...

Ponyboy would never forget how mad the Populars were after Luke returned to his mother after the incident with Stephanie when they'd failed to put her behind bars for physical assault and child neglect.

They weren't bad people. Life just... school just... somehow, Ponyboy couldn't blame them for this. He learned a long time ago that blaming others without knowing the whole story can hurt a lot of people. When he did that, Darry, Bob, Soda, Johnny, Dally... they all got hurt because Pony blamed Darry without knowing the whole story.

But never again. He'd call Luke in the morning.

Little did Ponyboy know, Luke McCoy may not have a morning.

* * *

Michael was really starting to regret chasing Luke off. Luke was his best friend, through thick and thin.

When Michael got dumped by Sandra Conners in freshman year, Luke didn't judge him for crying; he handed Michael a pint of ice cream and listened to him as he ranted about Sandra.

When Michael got so drunk at a party that he couldn't remember his own name, Luke had been the one to help him home and get him up to his bedroom without his parents noticing.

When Michael's cousin died in a car accident, Luke had gone with him to the funeral and held his hand as they buried an eight year old boy six feet beneath the ground.

Michael exchanged glances with Cloe, Stephanie, and the others (the others weren't too fond of Luke, but they understood Michael's tight bond with him). He stood and walked outside. Nobody stopped him. They all knew where he was going.

The streets were quiet, not a car in sight. Even the Greasers seemed to have cleared off the streets, and the closer he got to Luke's house, the more nervous he became.

A bad feeling settled in his gut. Something was very, very wrong.

Michael broke into a run, speeding through the streets, feeling like he was back in junior high on the track team. His legs burned, but the awful feeling in his chest burned brighter. Luke needed him.

His house was so close, only a few yards away, poised like a dollhouse on a lane of perfect homes. But inside, Barbie was drinking or maybe sleeping with some guy, and her son was in danger.

Michael quite literally busted open the door, and he was shocked to be greeted by silence. No television or music; no queen of hearts screaming at him not to be so loud; no best friend snickering as Michael blushed.

The silence was eerie.

Michael crept through the house, first to Luke's room, which he found empty, and then, he branched out to other rooms.

Mom's room, empty.

Bathrooms, all empty.

Loft, empty.

Kitchen, utterly vacant.

"Luke!" He called. "Ms. McCoy!"

Nothing.

Only the living room was left.

Michael stepped through the archway and turned to look around the room.

His eyes landed on Luke McCoy.

He screamed.

* * *

 _Should I kill Luke? Or no?_

 _Also, don't worry, I will get back to Aimee and Soda soon; I just hate the stories that are all romance and no action or angst, so..._

 _Bye bye!_


	18. What We All Need

_I know I've been away for a long time, but after I'd updated some of my other stories and got to this one, I started to have writer's block and it finally went away last night._

 _This story will not be abandoned, but it will be updated in a manner. I need to ask if you'd rather have me update more frequently with shorter chapters (between 800 and 1100 words) or have me update less frequently with longer chapters (1500-2000 words or above). Please let me know in the reviews. Thank you!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

 ** _WARNINGS: LANGUAGE_**

* * *

"It is six in the morning!" Two Bit groaned, rolling over as someone knocked on the door. "Who would be here at six in the fricking morning on a Saturday?"

"Who even knocks on the door anymore?" Steve mumbled. "Most just walk in."

Aimee laughed as she opened the door. "May I help you?"

The teen was tall with brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a blue button up shirt and smelled like cigarettes and beer and... Aimee jolted. Blood. He smelled like blood.

"Is Ponyboy here?" He asked.

Since Pony was so injured, Aimee considered telling him to go away, but his eyes were stained red from tears, and he looked like her after she'd found Marcia unconscious on the bathroom floor while having no idea what happened to her. Which, is to say, traumatized.

She nodded. "Yeah. Come on in."

She let him in and escorted him to the living room, where Ponyboy was half sitting up on the couch.

Ponyboy jumped about a foot in the air, trying to move back, but he was prevented from doing so by the couch.

"Woah!" The boy exclaimed. "I'm not here to cause trouble! Luke asked me to get you."

Ponyboy's suspicion dropped, and he sat up straighter. "Luke?" He said.

"Yeah. He wanted me to tell you that he's sorry for everything, and even though you're not ready to forgive him, he hopes that one last try would help," the boy told him. "He was kind of babbling, so that was what I could gather."

"What happened to him?" Ponyboy asked.

The boy stared at the ground. "His mom... she beat him real bad. I found him, and he's... in the hospital."

"Is he gonna be alright?" Aimee cut in.

The boy shrugged. "Right now... they don't know if he's going to make it."

Ponyboy struggled to stand.

"Oh, no, you don't," Aimee told him, pushing him back onto the couch. "I know you want to visit Luke, but you need to get a bit better first."

"How'd you know that that was what I was doing? I could've had to use the bathroom."

"Do you?"

"No..."

"Face it, Ponyboy, you and Soda are too much alike for me not to understand you by now."

Ponyboy shrugged. "Good point."

The boy nodded at the injured fourteen year old on the couch. "I'm sorry for what happened, and I'll keep you posted."

Ponyboy nodded. "Thanks."

"No. Thank you."

Before Aimee or Pony could ask what that meant, the boy waved goodbye and strolled out the door.

For a long moment, Aimee and Ponyboy sat there, listening to their friends snoring, the only noise in the otherwise silent room.

"Well," Ponyboy finally said, "that was an odd meeting."

* * *

A few hours later, Ponyboy was resting on the couch; Darry had gone into work; Two Bit, Steve, and Dally were who knows where; and Johnny was reading in the living room.

"Soda, do you have any idea how to cook?" Aimee asked.

Soda looked mildly offended. "Of course, I do! Don't my eggs look appetizing?"

Aimee giggled. "Soda, eggs aren't supposed to be green."

"Who says?"

"Every cook book in the history of the universe."

"Not necessarily. I mean, what about Green Eggs and Ham?"

"Last time I checked, Dr. Seuss wasn't a professional chef."

Soda huffed before he placed eggs on his and Aimee's plates while she got the bacon.

"Alright, Soda," Aimee sighed. "I'm trusting you not to give me food poisoning."

She took a bite.

"These actually aren't bad," she admitted.

Soda smiled. "I told you."

"Oh, by the way, someone stopped by this morning," she told him before launching into the story of the boy that had told Ponyboy about Luke.

Soda shrugged. "Well, Pony looks to be getting better. Depending on how he's feeling later, we could probably take him to see Luke."

Aimee bit her lip. "I'm worried about Ponyboy."

"Why?"

"Well... Soda, we both know that this has something to do with our relationship. Someone doesn't like us being together, and they're taking it out on Ponyboy because hurting him hurts you. And this person isn't going to be the only one unhappy with our relationship."

"Aimee... are you breaking up with me?" Soda asked.

"Of course not! It's just... how are we going to jump these hurdles, so to speak?"

"I've already talked to the gang, and we're working on how to protect Ponyboy. He won't be going anywhere alone; at least one of the gang will be with him at school whenever they can. We're really trying. Last time we accepted it, and a kid died. Johnny almost died. We're not making that mistake again."

Aimee nodded. "Soda... I love you."

Soda blinked, a little taken aback by the sudden statement. "I love you, too, Aimee."

Aimee smiled, weakly. "Thanks, Soda."

"For what?"

"For giving me something I really needed."

Soda blinked again. "What do you mean?"

Aimee rolled her eyes before leaning across the table and kissing her boyfriend, lightly, on the lips.

"I love you, Sodapop Curtis."

Soda smiled.

From the doorway, Ponyboy grinned before returning to the couch.

If Aimee could give his brother the love he so desperately needed after the loss of Sandy and their parents, he didn't see why he should resent her for any reason.

* * *

Later that day, Darry helped Ponyboy out of the car, and the three Curtis brothers, along with Aimee, walked into the hospital.

The person behind the desk looked up when they approached her, her eyes immediately zeroing in on Ponyboy, who was looking better but was still far from healed.

"We're here to see Luke McCoy," Darry said to the person behind the desk.

She nodded. "Room 107, right down that hallway. Does he need to be admitted?" She asked, pointing at Pony.

Darry shook his head. "No, he fell off his bike, got busted up, but we've got it under control."

"If you're sure," she said.

No one liked how she said that, but they brushed it off and walked down the hallway to Luke McCoy's room.

Luke looked like he'd been hit by a semi. His face was puffy and covered with purple and black marks; there were so many, the only trace of his normally pale skin was the smallest oval almost hidden by his hair. His arms were very similar, but there, bruises were joined by cigarette burns and cuts and scratches.

To put it bluntly, someone had busted the kid up bad.

"Holy shit," Darry muttered.

Ponyboy slowly walked forward.

"Just so you know, Luke, I forgive you."

As if on cue, a loud _beeep_ sounded through the room.

The green line went flat.

And Pony felt as if it was his own heart that had stopped beating and not Luke's.

* * *

 _I know it's not the best chapter, but this story's about to get real interesting. Let's just say, you should remember the conversation with the lady behind the desk (Mwahaha, evil laugh, mwahaha)._

 _Sorry, what were we talking about?_

 _Anyway, reviews keep me updating! REVIEW!_

 _See you next time! Bye bye!_


	19. Something About Ponyboy

_I know it's been a while, and I apologize, but on the bright side, I will start posting more frequent updates. They'll be between 800 and 1110 words, and I'm going to make a goal to post once a week, maybe every other week (depending on my schedule)._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Doctors raced into the room, and they shoved Ponyboy out as they broke out the paddles to shock Luke back to life.

"CLEAR!" Somebody shouted, and Ponyboy heard a thump right before a nurse shut the door.

Darry appeared at Ponyboy's shoulder and tugged his brother down the hall towards the waiting room.

"Come on, Pony," he whispered. "Come on."

Ponyboy allowed himself to be pulled away by his brother, and Soda slung an arm around Ponyboy's shoulders.

"It'll be okay," Soda murmured into his brother's ear.

Honestly, Soda wasn't so sure.

* * *

Ponyboy didn't know how long they sat in the waiting room, but it was long enough for him to get worried about Luke. Even more worried than he already was, I mean.

Ponyboy tapped his fingers against his kneecaps and he drew in a shaky breath; his leg bounced up and down, and his hands were sweating like crazy. Ponyboy hadn't been this worried since Johnny was in the hospital.

Soda placed his hand against the side of Ponyboy's head and pressed it into his shoulder. Ponyboy leaned on his brother while Soda ran a comforting hand up and down Ponyboy's back.

"What if he's not okay, Soda?" Ponyboy murmured.

Soda sighed. "He won't have to hurt anymore, " he pointed out.

Ponyboy nodded. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

Soda laughed without humor. "I dont think it doesn't make anyone feel any better, kiddo."

A nurse walked down the hall and into the waiting room, her flats clicking against the tiled floor as she balanced a clipboard in her hands.

She approached the Curtis brothers.

"You three are here to Luke McCoy, yes?" She said, looking up from her papers and staring from one brother to the others before focusing on Darry.

Darry nodded. "Yes. How's he doing?"

"We did manage to revive him," she said.

Ponyboy sighed in relief.

"His chances are looking... better, although it's not one hundred percent yet," the nurse said.

"So what you're saying is all we can do is hope," Ponyboy said.

The nurse nodded. "I'm afraid so. He's awake if you want to see him, but be gentle around him. He's already on thin ice."

 _What does she think we're going to do?_ Ponyboy thought _. Shove him out of bed? Beat him up? Just because we're Greasers doesn't make us cruel._

The look on Soda's face told him he felt the same way.

The nurse lead the three brothers down the hall and into Luke McCoy's room, where Luke was laying in his bed and blinking, sleepily.

Luke mumbled incomprehensibly for a moment.

"I know you," he muttered more clearly, pointing at Ponyboy. "Something with... horses."

His hand fell back to the bed as exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he began to drift in and of consciousness.

The brothers turned to the nurse, who shrugged.

"He sustained some head injuries. He'll be in and out of it for a while, and when he is awake, he probably won't make much sense," the nurse explained.

Ponyboy nodded. "Thank you."

The nurse turned to Darry.

"Does he need to be admitted?" She asked, pointing at Ponyboy. "Those are some nasty bruises."

Darry shook his head. "He's fine. He fell off his bike. Busted him up, but we've got it under control."

The nurse nodded, although she still appeared concerned and a tad bit suspicious, before leaving.

Ponyboy sat in the chair at Luke's bedside.

"You guys can head to work if you need to," he said. "I'm going to stay here for a bit."

Darry nodded. "I'll send Two Bit in about an hour to check on you."

Ponyboy nodded, not looking away from Luke's puffy, bruised face.

* * *

A FEW DAYS LATER

"Cheers," Soda smiled, "to our two month anniversary."

Soda's soda can clicked against Aimee's, and she giggled before sipping from the can.

Three days had passed since Ponyboy had first visited Luke in the hospital, and Pony had gone everyday. There wasn't much change, although Luke did remember Ponyboy's name now. He didn't remember much else; the doctors said it could be awhile before Luke's mind was back in working order.

On a lighter note, Soda and Aimee were celebrating two months of glorious dating.

"Soda, these two months have been-"

"Soda!"

The couple jumped and saw Two Bit running up to where they sat on a short wall on the edge of a vacant park.

"Two Bit, we're in the middle of-" Two Bit interrupted Soda.

"Darry called me looking for you. He said to come home now. He wouldn't go into details, but he said it was something about Ponyboy," Two Bit gasped, having run all the way from his house.

Two Bit had barely finished the sentence when Soda shot to his feet and started running, faster than an Olympic runner.

* * *

 _The next update will be along shortly._

 _Make sure to review. The more you review, the more I update._


	20. Unspoken Vow

_This is a shorter chapter, but it's also a very sad chapter, so I tried to avoid torturing you too much. Get your tissues ready._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders_**

* * *

Soda arrived to see Darry arguing with Ponyboy's social worker on their front porch. He skidded to a halt beside Darry and watched the argument play out; he didn't want to interfere because he had a feeling that would make this worse.

"You can't just take him!" Darry cried, glaring at the social worker. Who did she think she was, barging in here to take Ponyboy away from his _good_ family? The neighbors, the gang, some of Ponyboy's teachers, and Ponyboy himself had told her that Darry was a good guardian. Why didn't she listen?

"Mr. Curtis, someone reported seeing very worrying bruises on Ponyboy," Ms. Jarris sighed, exasperated. Why couldn't they see that it was her job to keep children safe? It wasn't always an easy decision when it came to certain cases, but she worked in what she and the state thought was the best interest of the child.

"We don't abuse him if that's what you're asking! Some kids jumped him," Darry said. "In a town like this, that's not uncommon."

"Even if that's the case," Ms. Jarris told him, "you failed to take Ponyboy to the hospital, despite his worrying injuries."

"We had it under control. We don't have the money for hospital bills, so I didn't see why we should take him if we could heal them ourselves."

"Refusing to take a child to a hospital, despite major injuries that could get worse if left untreated, is a type of neglect, Mr. Curtis. Ponyboy has several fractures in multiple parts of his body, and these fractures could've become breaks, which could've healed wrong."

"But-"

"I'm afraid we have no choice, Mr. Curtis. You were already walking on thin ice after Robert Shelton died. I'm sorry."

With that, Ms. Jarris gestured inside for Ponyboy to come along.

"Darry," Pony said as he stepped outside with a small suitcase holding only his most important possessions and some clothes. "Please don't let her take me!"

"Pony, I want you to go with her for now," Darry instructed. "And I-I promise I will find some way to get you back, okay? Now... promise me you'll behave yourself and be the good kid I know you are."

Pony nodded, tears springing to his eyes without his permission. "I promise, Darry. I'll miss you."

Darry embraced his little brother, tightly. "I'll miss you, too."

Soda joined in on the hug before Ms. Jarris broke up the embrace and lead Ponyboy to the car.

Pony waved goodbye as they drove out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.

His baby brother. Taken. Soda had never felt so helpless.

As soon as they were out of sight, Soda collapsed and started bawling.

Darry knelt beside Soda and held onto the only brother he had left, afraid that the minute he let go, Soda would be taken from him, too.

* * *

Soda knocked on the door to Aimee's house (she hated it there and spent most of her time at Darry's, but she gave the Curtis brothers some space after Two Bit got Soda and waited for Soda to come to her).

"Soda," Aimee gasped as she answered the door. "What happened with Ponyboy?"

"Social services took him," Soda sobbed before melting into Aimee's arms.

Despite her own aching heart, Aimee attempted to comfort Soda before she comforted herself. No matter how much she wanted to lock herself away, she didn't.

Being Soda's girlfriend meant she had taken a silent vow to always be there for him, and she wasn't about to break that promise.

* * *

 _I will eventually write a story based on Ponyboy's experience in foster care, but I'm not sure when that will be (before he returns home in All That Matters. I know that). Once I have a specific date, I'll be sure to inform you._

 _Thanks for reading._


	21. Right Here

_Hello. I know that I haven't been doing the best job at updating this story or Trials Of A Social Divide (for those of you that are reading that), but the week of March 12-March 18, my main focus will be on my Outsiders stories, so I will post as many chapters as I can within those 6-7 days (I usually take one day off from writing, so probably closer to six days)._

 _Anyway, here's chapter 21! Wow, that's weird to say. Most of my stories aren't more than 20 chapters; I think I only have one story that's more than 20 chapters besides this one._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

"Soda, you need to sleep," Aimee stressed as Soda poured himself a cup of coffee.

It was nearly midnight. Aimee was staying over and was sleeping in Ponyboy's old room (the one he slept in before moving in with Soda); Darry didn't want Soda and Aimee sleeping in the same bed _("You are seventeen. No babies until you're at least twenty! **At least!"** )._

It had been nearly a week since Ponyboy had been taken from Darry and put in foster care. They hadn't gotten any calls from him yet, and the absence of his kid brother was taking its toll on Sodapop. Soda had slept maybe five hours in seven days, and the dark bags under his eyes made that all too obvious.

Soda shook his head, and he looked ready to nod off right where he was standing, which was at the counter with his coffee cup in hand.

"Why not?" Aimee demanded.

Soda sniffled and continued to face the cabinets. Aimee knew he was on the verge of tears.

"He's gone," Soda whispered. "During the day, when I'm working or at home, I can almost forget he's not there. I can imagine him at the movies or the lot or school, but at night, I can't forget he's not here. Sometimes I will for a little while, but when I roll over to see if he's asleep, he's not there, and then, I remember. I can't sleep without him next to me."

Aimee sighed. Sleeping pills or reading or warm milk wouldn't help him sleep if that was the problem. How could she help? It's not like she could just make Ponyboy magically appear!

Aimee walked over and embraced her boyfriend, her heart breaking with each sob he gave as his tears leaked out of his eyes and onto her shoulder. She didn't mind the salt water now drenching her nightgown; she simply rubbed a hand up and down his back, wishing she could take his pain away.

"Shh, it's only for a few months," she pointed out. "He'll be back before you know it, but Ponyboy would not want you to stop sleeping."

Soda nodded. "I know, but I can't. My arms feel so empty without him in them, and I… I just can't sleep knowing he's not right here with me. I can't sleep knowing I can't protect him!"

"From what?" Aimee asked.

"Everything. Nightmares, Socs, everything. I can't be there for him if he gets really sick or if he gets hurt or if he's in danger. If I'd been there to protect him the night he got jumped, he'd still be here. He'd still be in my sight where I can see him and make sure he's okay!" Soda whimpered.

"You can't keep blaming yourself for that, Soda," Aimee told him. "Ponyboy wouldn't want you to. I'm sure he's fine at his foster home."

"But what if he's not? Most foster families are good, are nice, are caring, but Ponyboy doesn't exactly have the best luck. What if he gets one of the bad ones? What if they don't care about him?" Soda asked. "Or worse. What if they hurt him?"

"If that happened, I'm sure Ponyboy would tell you, and he'll probably call any day now. It will all be okay," Aimee assured him.

"How do you know that?"

"I don't, but I do know that God wouldn't be putting your family through this if it wasn't supposed to happen. I don't know why He took Ponyboy away from you, but you still have a great older brother, fantastic friends, and me, and I know that God will make sure Ponyboy finds his way home. God will make sure everything turns out okay."

Soda wiped his eyes. "I don't think about God very often anymore. Not since Mom and Dad died. Ponyboy's been going back to church, and sometimes Darry goes with him, but I haven't yet."

"Maybe you should. After all, he helped Johnny, who was supposed to be paralyzed, walk again, and-"

"He gave me you," Soda finished.

Aimee smiled. "That was so cheesy, but thanks. Anyway, what if I make you a deal?"

"What?" Soda asked.

"If I sleep in your bed with you, will you go to sleep?"

Soda frowned. "But Darry said-"

"There won't be any funny business," Aimee assured him, "and I'm sure he'll understand. You need someone there for you. He'll understand that."

Soda nodded. "Okay."

Aimee led him into his bedroom and laid beside him in his bed.

"I love you, Soda," she whispered. When she didn't receive a response, she frowned. "Soda?" she called, glancing at him before smiling.

He was already asleep.

"I'm right here, Soda," she murmured, grabbing his hand. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

 _Probably one of my favorite chapters so far! I have come a long way when it comes to writing since I first posted this story, and I am very proud of how this chapter turned out. Please leave a review! Thanks for reading! Goodbye, everyone!_


	22. Blaming Yourself Will Change Nothing

_Chapter 22 has arrived!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

It didn't take long for Soda to start withdrawing from, not only Aimee, but everyone. Steve was always bored and depressed because his best friend was isolating himself, and he couldn't do anything about it. Two Bit was getting drunk more often than usual. They almost never saw Dally anymore, and Darry was working twice as much as usual. Johnny was reading Gone With The Wind over and over again; he probably read through the entire book at least once a day, and Aimee was almost positive that he was reading that book instead of sleeping, considering he almost fell asleep in his cereal that morning.

First, they'd lost Ponyboy- the dreamer, the one with the chance to get out of this town, and overall, the kid brother of the group. Now, they were losing Soda- the happy, go lucky, drunk on life, one in a million individual. The gang wouldn't be the same if any of them left, but there were three main links in the gang: Ponyboy, Soda, and Johnny. They'd barely held it together after losing Ponyboy, their main link. Now that they were losing Soda… the gang was slipping, and if something happened that made them lose Johnny, the gang would fall apart entirely.

And Aimee wasn't going to sit around and wait for that to happen.

Aimee waited until Darry left for work (on a Saturday, which was supposed to be his day off) and after ensuring that none of the other gang members were in the house, she walked into Soda's room and found him laying on his bed, not sleeping, but simply staring at the ceiling, lost in his own mind.

He didn't even notice she was there until she sat beside him.

He didn't speak. He didn't even look at her, but his gaze turned to the window, trying to avoid her eyes.

"Soda, I am here for you. The gang is here for you. Ponyboy would not want you to sulk around when the gang needs you the most. He needs you to be strong. Now, Soda, you were doing okay for a few days after you finally got some sleep. What changed?"

Soda swallowed. "I had a nightmare."

Aimee frowned. "About what?"

"About Pony. I dreamt he got stuck with these horrible people as foster parents, and they hurt him. And then… the foster dad kicked him in the head, and I couldn't move to stop him. I couldn't save him," Soda whispered. "Why hasn't he called?"

"What do you mean?" Aimee asked.

"Ponyboy said he would call us as soon as he could after they found him a foster home. It's been almost a month since they took him out of the boys home, almost a month since the last phone call. Pony isn't one to break his promises, so what would keep him from calling?" Soda asked.

Aimee sighed. "I don't have the answer, but I know that Ponyboy loves you, and that I love you, and that Darry loves you, and that the gang loves you. Sitting in your room, going through every _what if_ in the book and blaming yourself will not bring Ponyboy back any faster. What you need to do is clean up your act and be ready for when the social worker comes. The social worker will come within the next month and check on the house and see if they can send Ponyboy back here. The better you act with your work and your cleaning and your behavior… the sooner Ponyboy will come home. But sitting around will change nothing."

Soda nodded. "Thanks, Aimee. I guess it is about time we cleaned the house. Darry's been so busy working, nobody's done it, and I don't want the social worker to stop in unexpectedly and see dirty dishes piled as high as the Eiffel tower in the sink."

Aimee smiled. "There's the Soda we all know and love. Come on. Let's go start turning this pigsty into a five star hotel."

Soda chuckled. "Don't get unrealistic now. I've never seen this place look above a one star."

Aimee shrugged as they walked out of Soda's room.

"That's because you're all boys. Now, you have a girl to help," she told him.

The phone rang, and Soda started looking through the closet for the broom while Aimee picked it up.

"Hello," she chirped. "Curtis residence."

 _"Aimee?"_

She froze and looked at Soda, who had his head buried in the closet. After silence reigned for a few seconds, Soda glanced up, and Aimee opened and closed her mouth like a fish several times before she managed to reply:

"It's Ponyboy."

* * *

 _And the long awaited phone call has arrived! Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, and I will see you with the next update! Bye!_


	23. The Phone Call

_Some hints in this about what's happening with Ponyboy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Soda tripped over about half a dozen things on his way to the phone, and he managed to make it there without seriously injuring himself. He snatched the phone from his girlfriend, and a grin stretched across his face.

"Ponyboy?" he whispered, almost not daring to believe that he was speaking to his little brother for the first time in almost a month.

 _"Hey, Soda. It's nice to hear your voice again."_

"You, too," Soda replied. "What made you wait so long to call?"

Ponyboy hesitated, and Soda swallowed, almost afraid of the answer or more accurately, the truth.

 _"My foster parents don't have a phone, so I had to find a pay phone, which was actually easier said than done. This town barely has any of them."_

Soda raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of your foster parents, are they treating you right?"

Hesitation came around again, and Soda's heart rate picked up as he thought about what the hesitation could imply.

 _"Yeah. Of course, I still miss you and Darry, but they're not bad or mean to me…"_

Soda could hear Ponyboy swallow harshly, a nervous habit of his.

 _"I miss you."_

"I miss you, too, Pony," Soda said, quietly. "You'll be home soon. I know it."

 _"I'll stay out of trouble,"_ Ponyboy promised. _"I won't cause any problems from my foster parents or the state. Hopefully, they'll send me home sooner if I'm on my best behavior."_

"We're trying, too," Soda responded. "Darry's working more to bring in some more income and make our bank accounts look less pitiful to the state. Aimee and I were just about to clean the house."

 _"Sodapop Curtis… cleaning? Don't make me laugh!"_

Soda chuckled. "I'm serious! Aimee said our house always looks like a one star hotel because we're all guys, but now that she's here to help, we're going to make it look like a _five_ star hotel."

 _"I wish I could see that!"_

"I'll ask your social worker if you're allowed to visit next time I see her," Soda said.

 _"Can you also ask her when her next visit with me is? I thought she was supposed to visit once a month."_

Soda's eyes widened. "She hasn't visited yet? I think she was scheduled to visit your foster home last week. She didn't?"

 _"No, she didn't."_

Ponyboy's tone was strange, like he was hiding something bigger than a missed visit. Was there a reason he needed her to visit? Soda was too afraid to ask.

"I'll talk to her. She's supposed to come here towards the end of the week to check out the house and ask some routine questions. I'll go ahead and call her and ask if you can come visit us," Soda said. "It hasn't been the same around here without you."

"It hasn't been the same without you guys either. Mr. and Mrs. Worth are nice, but they're not my family. I want to go home, but at least I'll be in good hands until then."

There was another strange tone to Ponyboy's voice. It reminded Soda of when he and his high school friends would talk about random stuff in class, like cars, lunch, and weekend plans, but change their conversation as soon as the teacher was within ear shot. Their voices had adopted the same tone- flat, fake.

Somebody was listening in on Ponyboy's conversation…

But why?

"That's good to hear," Soda said.

 _"I have to go. Tell the gang and Darry I said hello and that I miss them, and I'll call again soon. Love you, Soda. Bye."_

"I love you, too, Pony," Soda said. "Bye."

Soda hung up the phone.

"How was it?" Aimee asked. "Talking to him, I mean."

Soda didn't answer. His thoughts were racing a hundred miles per hour.

"Soda?" Aimee muttered.

Soda was not the brightest crayon in the box; even he would admit that. He didn't know much about the nonverbal language humans use, even unknowingly, such as their body language or their tone. But he did know Ponyboy. He knew his little brother like the back of his hand.

Hesitating, gulping, the strange hidden tones in his voice, like he was hiding something. His voice even shifted, like he was biting his lip, another habit of Ponyboy's, but he only used it when he wasn't telling the truth.

One of these things wouldn't make Soda very suspicious, but when they all happened at the same time… it could only mean one thing.

"Soda, what is it?" Aimee asked, shaking his shoulder to get him to come back to Earth.

Soda turned to face her, and she frowned at the apprehension and anxiety in his eyes as he thought of what it all could mean. Ponyboy told him everything. What was big enough that Ponyboy felt the need to hide it from him?

"Soda?" Aimee pressed.

Soda swallowed before blurting out the horrible, fear inducing thing he had realized.

"Ponyboy lied to me."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Please review! Bye!_


	24. Big Brothers Have A Right To Worry

_Hello. More of a filler chapter than anything, this chapter, but I hope you still enjoy it._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

"How do you know?" Aimee asked.

"I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but if there's one thing I know, it's Ponyboy. I know Pony almost as much as I know myself, and as sure as I am standing here, Ponyboy lied to me," Soda said, firmly, as he started looking around for his shoes.

"About what?" Aimee asked.

"Probably most of it," Soda told her as he pulled on one of his shoes. "Being treated right. Mr. and Mrs. Worth being nice. Being in good hands. Why he couldn't call us. And someone was monitoring his conversation to make sure he didn't tell us something, but what? What couldn't he tell us?"

"Are you sure this isn't just because you've been worried about Ponyboy and his placement in this foster home?" Aimee asked. "I'm sure he's fine."

"First of all, big brothers have a right to worry," Soda told her, straightening up after putting on his shoes and reaching for his jacket. "And Aimee… please, I love you so much, and I need you to believe me on this. A big brother's instinct… it's a powerful thing, and it hasn't failed me once. I doubt it will fail me now."

"Where are you going?" Aimee asked.

Soda reached for the phone. "To check on Ponyboy."

He dialed the phone number of Ponyboy's social worker and held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello, Ms. Jarris!" he said as politely as he could. "This is Sodapop Curtis."

 _"Oh, yes, the brother of Ponyboy Curtis. How can I help you?"_ she asked.

"I was just wondering if we were allowed to visit Ponyboy," Soda said. "At his foster home, or he could possibly come here."

 _"You may, but there will be a strict amount of time for your visits. I will set the time for most of them, but if you visit Ponyboy's foster home, his foster parents set the time."_

"Thank you, Ms. Jarris. You've been a lot of help," Soda said before hanging up.

"You would've gone whether she said yes or not," Aimee pointed out, gesturing to his shoes and jacket.

Soda nodded. "Yeah, but asking first seemed more polite. I'm pretty sure the saying _it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission_ doesn't work with social services."

Aimee nodded. "Agreed. Let me get my shoes and jacket. I'm coming with you. Should we call your brother?"

Soda pursed his lips. "No. If I tell him about my suspicions… let's just say, we shouldn't get him more worried than he already is. I'll call Steve at the DX and ask him to cover for me with Darry, tell him I went into work."

Aimee nodded before beginning to slip her sneakers (Aimee was the type of girl that almost always worse sneakers. She even wore them with formal dresses- which her parents were never happy about, but then again, they were never happy about anything when it came to her, so…) onto her sock clad feet while Soda called Steve.

"Steve, I need a favor," Soda said.

 _"Nice to know you're out of bed!"_ Steve exclaimed. _"I'm assuming you're feeling better."_

"Yeah, but I need you to cover for me with Darry. If he asks, tell him I went into work."

 _"Why?"_

"I'm going to see Ponyboy at his foster home."

 _"And why don't you want Darry to know? Wouldn't he want to come with you?"_

Soda sighed. "Steve, I promise that I will explain everything, but right now, I have more questions than answers, so please put your own questions on hold until I get some answers."

Steve paused. _"Okay."_

That was one of the things Soda loved about Steve. He could rely on Steve not to ask too many questions when Soda asked him to.

"Thanks," Soda said before hanging up. "Ready?" he asked Aimee as she shrugged on her jacket.

She smiled. "Let's go see Ponyboy."

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading! Bye, everyone!_


	25. Suspicions And Bruises

_Hello!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

 ** _WARNINGS: IMPLIED ABUSE_**

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Aimee asked.

"That's the address," Soda replied.

They pulled up in front of a relatively nice house- not too shabby, but not extravagant. It wasn't a huge house; it was of average size, but it was also completely white, except for the blue front door and the blue curtains. The grass was neatly mowed, and there was a garden in the back that looked beautifully tended to.

Ponyboy's foster home.

"It looks like a dollhouse," Soda murmured.

Aimee nodded. "It's _too_ perfect."

They sat there, staring at the house, for several minutes. They both had a bad feeling in their stomachs, like they were staring at a medieval torture chamber instead of a normal house.

"Well… we'd better go inside," Soda said. "No use sitting out here in the cold."

Aimee nodded, and the couple got out of the car and approached the house with tentative feet and nervous hearts. Soda raised his fist and knocked lightly on the door.

"Brat, get the door!" a male voice shouted.

"Oh, he better not have just called my little brother a brat," Soda growled under his breath as footsteps approached the door, and the door opened.

Ponyboy couldn't have been more surprised if he saw their _parents_ standing on the other side of the door. His eyes widened, comically, and he blinked at least a dozen times before snapping out of it.

Overall, he didn't look that much different than when he left almost a month ago. He was skinnier and paler, and he wasn't wearing any hair grease. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a baggy blue shirt that looked like it'd be big on Darry. His feet were bare, and he was shivering, and Soda couldn't blame him. Outside was freezing, being the month of December, and the house didn't feel much better, but Ponyboy was wearing short sleeves and no socks or shoes. He must've been cold as heck.

"Soda," he finally managed. "Aimee. What are you two doing here?"

"Is it crime for me to come see my favorite little brother?" Soda laughed, hugging Ponyboy. He frowned as his hand rubbed up and down the boy's back, wincing as he felt Ponyboy's spine stab his finger, like there was no fat or muscle to cushion the bones. He could feel Pony's ribs through his shirt.

The baggy shirt had made it hard to tell how skinny Ponyboy truly was; Soda had been suspicious, but it hadn't looked worrying, but now that he was hugging Ponyboy… let's just say that he's positive that Ponyboy was not anywhere near this skinny when he left home.

Ponyboy rolled his eyes. "I'm your only little brother."

"And that's why you're my favorite," Soda chuckled.

"Boy, who's at the door?" a man asked as he stepped into the doorway.

The man towered over Soda at around 6'5, and he had shiny, perfectly straight brown hair, not one strand out of place. His eyes shined a sky blue, and he was fairly pale. He wore a pair of crisp blue jeans without any rips or stains and a white button up shirt. He didn't exactly have a pleasant expression on his face, but it wasn't one that sent anyone running.

"This is my older brother, Sodapop, and his girlfriend, Aimee," Ponyboy answered. He spoke slowly and flatly, as though trying to stop his voice from shaking. "Soda, Aimee, this is my foster father, Mr. Worth."

"Nice to meet you," the man said, shaking Soda's hand.

"You, as well, but just so you know, my brother has a name, and it is not boy," Soda snarked.

"Has there been a change in _Ponyboy's_ -" the man said the name like it was poison in his mouth "-placement?"

"No, but his social worker said we could visit," Soda told him.

The man nodded. "Of course. Come on in, but please take off your shoes before doing so. Ponyboy, why don't you go get Mrs. Worth?"

Ponyboy nodded and turned, but when he did so, his sleeve slipped down.

Soda's breath hitched, and Aimee swallowed as she followed his gaze.

Bruises of all shades and sizes stained Ponyboy's shoulder, like someone had beaten the boy… repeatedly.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Bye!_


	26. A Visit With A Caged Dreamer

_Hello, everyone. The visit with Ponyboy continues._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

 ** _WARNINGS: IMPLIED ABUSE_**

* * *

Soda sat on the couch beside Aimee, and Ponyboy soon joined them. His foster parents sat across from them in arm chairs, and for several moments, no one spoke. Or moved. Or breathed.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Mrs. Worth asked.

Mrs. Worth was short, barely taller than Ponyboy, and she had blonde hair that fell in perfect ringlets around her shoulders. Her eyes were blue, as well, and her skin was porcelain: pale, smooth, and fragile-looking. She wore a blue dress with pink polk a dots, and her smile was seemingly kind, but Soda didn't trust her one bit.

Aimee smiled. "That would be lovely. Thank you. I'll just take some water."

"Me, too," Soda told her.

The woman looked at Ponyboy, sternly, and jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen. Ponyboy nodded and stood, going to fetch the drinks.

Soda frowned, but before he could say anything, Mr. Worth asked them a question.

"Are you two in high school?" he asked.

Aimee nodded. "I am, but my winter break started on Friday."

"I actually don't you to high school. I work at a gas station," Soda told them.

And here came _the look_ : the one Soda got when he told people he was a drop out who worked at a gas station. The judgmental look, the raised eyebrows, the turned up nose… He was used to it, but it didn't make it any easier to hide the glare he wanted to send at Mr. Worth.

Ponyboy returned and handed both of them water bottles, which Soda gratefully took a drink from and offered to Ponyboy. Ponyboy glanced at Mr. Worth, who gave him a firm glance, before turning down the water.

Soda frowned. Ponyboy had just silently asked his foster father for permission to have a drink of water… that his brother was offering to him. Before Ponyboy had been taken away and put in a boys home, he'd snatch Soda's Pepsi and take multiple sips of it before laughing and handing it back to an offended Soda, who would then initiate a game of Holler Uncle. Now, he was asking permission to take one sip of water from a bottle that was being offered to him.

He needed to get his little brother out of here.

"So Ponyboy, how is school for you?" Soda asked.

"We home school him," Mrs. Worth told Soda.

Soda had a hard time keeping the smile on his face. He didn't trust these people at all, and he had been hoping that Ponyboy would be out of their reach for seven hours a day, but now, he knew that his little brother was here with these people twenty four/seven.

It scared him more than he wanted to admit.

"That's cool. The guys and Darry really miss you," Soda told Ponyboy. "Johnny must've read _Gone With The Wind_ a hundred times since you left."

"Probably closer to two hundred," Aimee joked.

"Tell them I miss them, too," Ponyboy said.

"Will do," Soda told him. "Anyway, have you written anything lately?"

Ponyboy pursed his lips. "Not really. Writer's block, I guess. It's not like I was very good at it anyways."

Soda's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? You're amazing! I expect at least one short story by the time you get back, Mister."

"Yes, sir," Ponyboy laughed.

Soda glanced at Aimee and nodded.

"So Mr. and Mrs. Worth, what do you two do for a living?" Aimee asked.

As the Worths began explanations about their careers, Soda leaned over to whisper in Ponyboy's ear:

"Are you having any nightmares?"

Ponyboy nodded. "Sometimes, but I try to wear myself out before bed, so I don't have them as often as you might think."

"So who told you you weren't any good at writing?" Soda murmured.

Ponyboy opened and closed his mouth a few times, and for a moment, Soda thought he was going to blurt out the whole truth, but Mr. Worth interrupted.

"Well, I'm afraid I'll have to cut this meeting short," he said. "I have to head into work for a few hours, but it was nice meeting you two."

"You, too," Aimee said, hugging Ponyboy.

After Aimee released Ponyboy, Soda embraced his little brother.

"Call me if you need anything," he murmured in Ponyboy's ear. "I mean it. _Anything._ I love you."

"I love you, too," Ponyboy replied.

"Even though we're apart, I'll always be here for you. Remember that," Soda mumbled.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! Bye!_


	27. We May Worry, But We'll Worry Together

_Hello, everyone!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

* * *

"Darry," Soda said.

Soda had spent the majority of the day thinking about how he was going to tell Darry about the meeting with Ponyboy and his foster parents, but each attempt to practice the conversation with himself was even worse than the last.

Eventually, Soda abandoned practicing all together and simply tried to put all the puzzle pieces together in his brain. Aimee was right by his side the entire time, but now that he was finally facing Darry, he needed to do this on his own.

Darry looked up from the newspaper. "Yeah, Soda?"

"There's something I need to tell you," Soda said, grabbing a folding chair from the nearby card table and placing it in front of Darry's arm chair. He took a seat in it and took a deep breath.

"Oh, no," Darry muttered. "What did you do, Soda?"

"It's not something I did. It's something I'm worried about," Soda said.

Darry rolled up his newspaper and put it on the table beside him and looked at Soda, giving him his full attention.

"Ponyboy called today," Soda began.

Darry's eyes widened. "Really? How's he doing?"

"He _says_ he's doing fine," Soda replied.

"But you're not so sure," Darry finished.

"I knew he was hiding something, and somebody was listening in on his phone call. I think it was one of his foster parents. So if Ponyboy wanted to tell me anything, he couldn't with this person there," Soda explained, "so I wanted to make sure he was okay. Aimee and I went to visit him."

Darry blinked. "Is that allowed?"

"Yeah, we checked with the social worker, who apparently hasn't visited Pony's foster home once," Soda informed him.

"Wasn't she supposed to visit him last week?" Darry asked.

Soda nodded. "I can understand her being busy and having to postpone the visit, but Ponyboy sounded like he needed her to visit. I think he might have even called her, asking for her to come visit, but I don't know for sure. Anyway, Ponyboy seemed… different."

"Different how?" Darry demanded.

"He was more timid. He kind of asked his foster father permission to have one sip of water from the bottle I offered him, and his foster father didn't even give him permission. Darry, he was skinnier than when he got back from Windrixville."

Darry's eyes widened.

"I know," Soda muttered in response to his brother's surprise. "And… worst of all… I saw… bruises," Soda stammered. "I think they're hurting him, Darry."

Darry sighed. "Well, we need to go to social services!" he exclaimed.

"Darry, we're desperate to get Ponyboy back," Soda pointed out. "Do you really think they'll believe us?"

"It'll at least get them to check it out. They can't ignore a child abuse report without serious consequences. Ms. Jarris could get suspended, fired, maybe even arrested, depending on… what happens if she chooses to ignore it," Darry said, hesitating towards the end.

"You mean if those foster parents kill Ponyboy," Soda whispered.

"They're not going to kill him. We won't let them. If worst comes to worst, and we know for a fact that Ponyboy could be in grave danger in that house, we will take matters into our own hands. I will not risk my little brother's life," Darry stated.

"None of us will," Aimee said as she appeared in the doorway. "Tomorrow, the three of us will go to social services. We give them a week; if they haven't checked on Ponyboy or his living situation by the end of the week, we tell the gang, and we get proof. They can't ignore us if we have proof. That's just _begging_ for jail time."

"What do we do until then?" Soda asked. "I don't know about you, but if I sit here all night, I will do nothing but worry."

"Maybe that's what we need," Aimee said, flopping down onto the couch. "The more we worry, the more determined we'll be to take action. The more we worry, the more precautions we'll take. The more we worry, the more things we think of and the more detailed plan we have."

"So what… we all just sit here alone on a Sunday night worrying?" Soda asked.

Aimee smirked. "We're not alone. We may worry, but we'll worry together."

"Yeah, to have two people that can hold back the one that tries to burst out that door and run down to Ponyboy's foster home and do something we'll regret when the lawyers come around," Darry snorted.

Aimee smiled. "Exactly."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! Bye!_


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